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POEMS 



FOR 



CHRISTMAS, EASTER, AND NEW YEAR'S. 



POEMS 



FOR 



Christmas, Easter, and New Year's. 



BY 



HEZEKIAH BUTTERWORTH. 



FULLY ILLUSTRATED. 






BOSTON: 
ESTES AND LAURIAT, PUBLISHERS, 

299-305 Washington Street. 
1885. 






Copyright, 1883, 
By Estes and Lauriat. 



^T.imbntiar : 



BY [OHN W M SON v 

l M ERSm ii ; 



CONTENTS. 



Page 

Introduction ix 

The Fountain of Youth : Pascha, Florida 1 

Magdalena 8 

In Chaleur Bay 11 

Advent • • 16 

The Old Man's Christmas 18 

The Golden Star 22 

Fair Morn of the Ages 23 

The March of the Magi 25 

The Tears of the Poor 29 

The Door of Death is the Door to Life 31 

Guillaume 33 

Light-hearted amid the Snow 38 

Blind-Man's-Buff 40 

The Bells of Uri 45 

The Easter Bells in the Mist 48 

Christmas Eve in the Catacombs 51 

The Chapel of the Catacombs 53 

Part I. The Pilgrim of the Night 53 

II. The Chapel of the Catacombs 57 

III. The City of the Stars . 64 

The Time is Short 70 

By Aiiava River 73 



viii CONTENTS. 

Page 

Memorial Day 79 

Risen 81 

The Celestial Pilot 84 

Noon or Night 89 

The First Christmas in New England 91 

The Hoses of Rhodes 95 

The Bird with a Broken Wing 98 

The Beautiful Village of Yule 100 

Lincoln's Last Dream 103 

Time makes Changes pleasantly 107 

The Old Flower-beds 'neath the Windows 108 

When my Children were about me Ill 

The Patriot's Remembrances 116 

Meeting and Parting 121 

Immortality . 124 

■• Ye did it unto me" 129 

Fisherman of Faroe 131 

Old Class- Room Number Four 137 

Dear's Hymn 141 

The Flag oi Forty Stars 143 

A \i.v Dear's Prayer 146 

I mil Right, to the "Right ever true" 147 

• Unknown" 150 

0» jim. a.tlantic • . 152 










THE TAPER. 



[INTEODUCTION. 



I stood in the old Cathedral 

Amid the gloaming cold ; 
Before me was the chancel 

And unlit lamps of gold. 

ii. 

From the mullioned window's chalice 
Was spilled the wine of light, 

And across the winter valleys 
Was drawn the wino* of night. 



in. 



The frescos of the angels 
Ahove me were unseen, 

And viewless were the statues 
Each pillared arch between. 



INTRODUCTION. 



IV. 



The chancel door swung open ; 

There came a feeble light, 
Whose halos like a mantle 

Fell over the acolyte. 

v. 

And one by one he kindled 
The silver lamps and gold, 

And the old Cathedral's glories 
Before my eyes unrolled. 

VI. 

The jet of light was feeble ; 

The lamps were stars of flame 
And T could read behind them 

Immanuers wondrous name. 

VII. 

The taper — light's evangel — 
Touched all the chandeliers ; 

As if by Heaven transfigured. 
Appeared the Saints and seers. 

VIII. 

Along the sculptured arches 
Appeared the statues dim; 

And pealed the stormy organ 
The peaceful advent hymn. 

IX. 

Ami as the form retreating 
Passed slowly from my sight. 

Eclipsed in lights il kindled 
Was lost flic taper's light. 



INTRODUCTION. 



XI 



One taper lights a thousand, 
Yet shines as it has shone, 

And the humblest light may kindle 
A brighter than its own. 



XI. 



And if within these pages, 
One touch of sympathy 

May to a heart more helpful 
An inspiration be, 



XII. 



Not vainly moves the taper 
O'er life's cathedral floor, 

Though it may pass unheeded 
Without the chancel door. 



28 Worcester Street, Boston. 









THE FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH: PASCHA FLORIDA. 



A DREAM OF PONCE DE LEON. 



A story of Ponce de Leon, 

A voyager, withered and old, 
Who came to the sunny Antilles, 

In quest of a country of gold. 
He was wafted past islands of spices, 

As bright as the Emerald seas, 
Where all the forests seem singing, 

So thick were the birds on the trees ; 
The sea was as clear as the azure, 

And so deep and so pure was the sky 
That the jasper-walled city seemed shining 

Just out of the reach of the eve. 



THE FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH. 

By day his light canvas he shifted, 

And rounded strange harbors and bars ; 

By night, on the full tides he drifted, 

'Neath the low-hanging lamps of the stars. 




Near the glimmering gates of the sunset, 

In the twilighl empurpled and dim, 
The sailors uplifted their voices, 

And sang to the Virgin a hymn. 
"Thank the Lord !" said De Leon, the sailor, 

!\1 the close of the rounded refrain ; 
"Thank the Lord, the AJmighty, who blesses 

The ocean-swepl banner of Spain ! 
The shadowy world is behind us, 

The shining ( !ipango, before : 
Each morning the sun rises brighter 

Oh ocean, and island, and shore. 



THE FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH. 

And still shall our spirits grow lighter, 
As prospects more glowing unfold ; 

Then on, merry men ! to Cipango, 

To the west, and the regions of gold ! ,: 




II. 

There came to De Leon, the sailor, 
Some Indian sages, who told 

Of a region so bright that the waters 
Were sprinkled with islands of gold. 



THE FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH. 

And they added : " The leafy Bimini, 

A fair land of grottos and bowers, 
Is there; and a wonderful fountain 

Upsprings from its gardens of flowers. 
That fountain gives life to the dying. 

And youth to the aged restores ; 
They nourish in beauty eternal. 

Who set but their foot on its shores ! " 
Then answered De Leon, the sailor : 

•• I am withered, and wrinkled, and old : 
I would rather discover that fountain. 

Than a country of diamonds and ^ , old. ,, 



in. 

Away sailed De Leon, the sailor, 

Away with a wonderful glee, 
Till the birds were more rare in the azure, 

The dolphins more rare in the sea; 
Away from the shady Bahamas, 

Over waters no sailor had seen, 
Till again on his wondering vision, 

"Rose clustering islands of green. 
Still onward he sped till the breezes 

Were laden with odors, and lo ! 
A country embedded with flowers. 

A country with rivers aglow! 
More bright than the sunny Antilles, 

More fair than the shady Azores. 
"Thanh the Lord!" said IV Leon, the sailor 

A.8 feasted his eye on the shores, 
" We have conic to ;i region, my brothers, 

More lovely than earth, of a fcruth ; 
And here is the Life-giving fountain. — 

The beautiful fountain of youth." 



THE FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH. 




IV. 

Then landed Dc Leon, the sailor, 
Unfurled his old banner, and sung; 

But he felt very wrinkled and withered, 
All around was so fresh and so young. 



THE FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH. 

The palms, ever-verdant, were blooming, 

Their blossoms e'en margined the seas ; 
O'er the streams of the forests, bright flowers 

Hung deep from the branches of trees. 
" 'T is Easter," exclaimed the old sailor; 

His heart was with rapture aflame ; 
And he said : " Be the name of this region 

As Florida given to fame. 
'T is a fair, a delectable country, 

More lovely than earth, of a truth ; 
I soon shall partake of the fountain, — 

The beautiful fountain of youth ! " 

v. 
But wandered De Leon, the sailor, 

In search of that fountain in vain ; 
No waters were there to restore him 

To freshness and beauty again. 
And his anchor he lifted, and murnmred, 

As the tears gathered fast in his eye, 
" I must leave this fair land of the flowers^ 

Go back o'er the ocean, and die." 
Then back by the dreary Tortugas, 

And back by the shady Azores, 
1 1*- was borne on the storm-smitten waters 

To the calm of his own native shores. 
Ami thai he grew older and older. 

His l'<»(»isic|»s enfeebled gave proof; 
Still he thirsted in dreams lor the fountain, — 

The beautiful fountain of youth. 

VI. 

One day the old sailor lay dying 

I Mi < he shores of a \ ropical isle, 
And his heart was enkindled with rapture, 

And his face Lighted up with a smile. 



THE FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH. 

He thought of the sunny Antilles, 

He thought of the shady Azores, 
He thought of the dreamy Bahamas, 

He thought of fair Florida's shores. 
And, when in his mind he passed over 

His wonderful travels of old, 
He thought of the heavenly country, 

Of the city of jasper and gold. 
" Thank the Lord ! " said De Leon, the sailor, 
" Thank the Lord for the light of the truth, 
I now am approaching the fountain, — 

The beautiful fountain of youth." 

VII. 

The cabin was silent : at twilight 

They heard the birds singing a psalm, 
And the wind of the ocean low sighing 

Through groves of the orange and palm. 
The sailor still lay on his pallet, 

'Neath the low-hanerins; vines of the roof; 
His soul had gone forth to discover 

The beautiful fountain of youth. 




MAGDALEXA. 



MAGDALENA. 

[EASTER.] 



Magdalena ! Magdalena ! 

Hasten, feet of Magdalena ! 
Hasten, for the sun is rising 

O'er the Eastern hills of bloom ! 
In thine eves the teardrops tender, 
In thy faee the morning splendor; 
Hasten, feet of Magdalena, 

Hasten, hasten to the tomb ! 

ii. 

Magdalena ! Magdalena ! 

Once thy soul was demon-haunted, 
Like the hart pursued it panted 

For the rest earth could not lend ; 
Then He came to thee, the Healer, 
Came the Paraclete Revealer, 
At His Peel thou fellest, pleading, 

Jn His bosom found a friend. 

in. 

Magdalena ! Magdalena ! 

Thou His sandalled feel has! followed. 
Thou beside His cross hasl trembled, 

I [asten with the rich perfume ! 



MA GD A LENA. 




Hasten with thy box of spices, 
Dreaming of the Paradises, 
Gardens of the halls immortal, 
Blooming far beyond the tomb ! 



TV. 

Magdalena ! Magdalena ! — 
Angels speak to Magdalena, 



10 MAGDALEN A. 

" Lo, the sealed tomb is riven, 

Lo, the stone away is rolled ! " 
Once thy sonl was demon-driven, 
Now the shining ones of heaven, 
By the empty tomb of Jesus, 
Thou art worthy to behold. 

y. 

Magdalena ! Magdalena ! 

Favored thou above all women, 
Hasten to the sad eleven, 

To the sorrowing ones, and say, — 
" He is risen ! at the portal 
Of His tomb are forms immortal ; 
Lo, mine eyes have seen the vision, 

In the place where Jesus lay ! " 

VI. 

Magdalena ! Magdalena ! 

Though thy feet may flee from Judah, 
Though thou diest in the caverns 

'Neath the purple skies of Gaul, 
Yet thy message from the angel 
Shall become the world's evangel, 
And all wondering nations hear it, 

And thy mission blessed call. 



IN CHALEUR BAY. 11 





IN CHALEUR BAY. 

The birds no more in door-yard trees are singing, 

The purple swallows all have left the eaves, 
And, thwart the sky, the broken clouds are winging, 

Shading the lanclslopes bright with harvest sheaves. 
Old Hannah waits her sailor-boy's returning, 

His fair young brow to-day she hopes to bless ; 
But sees the red sun on the hill-tops burning, 

The flying cloud, the wild, cold gloominess 
Of Chaleur Bay. 

The silver crown has touched her forehead lightly 

Since last his hand was laid upon her hair ; 
The golden crown will touch her brow more brightly 

Ere he again shall print his kisses there. 
The night comes on, the village sinks in slumber, 

The rounded moon illumes the water's rim ; 
Each evening hour she hears the old clock number, 

But brings the evening no return of him 
To Chaleur Bay. 



12 IN CHALEUR BAY. 

She heard low murmurs in the sanely reaches, 

And knew the sea no longer was at rest. 
The black clouds scudded o'er the level beaches, 

And barred the moonlight on the ocean's breast. 
The niu'lit wore on, and a'rew the shadows longer ; 

Far in the distance of the silvered seas 
Tides lapped the rocks, and blew the night-wind stronger, 

Bending the pines and stripping bare the trees 
Round Chaleur Bay. 

Then Alice came ; on Hannah's breast reclining, 

She heard the leaves swift whistling in the breeze, 
And, through the lattice, saw the moon declining 

In the deep shadows of the rainy seas. 
The fire -burned warm: upon the hearth was sleeping 

The faithful dog that used his steps to follow. 
■• "T is almost midnight," whispered Alice, weeping, 

While blew the winds more drearily and hollow 
O'er Chaleur Bay. 

Then Hannah told old tales of France: strange stories 

CM Cinq-Mars' fall: of Richelieu's grand dreams; 
Of tail- chateaus ; of art's triumphal glories 

In "M Versailles; of brave Jacques Cartier's schemes; 
Of losl Porl Royal and its winter palace; 

How her dead husband's family bad shone 
In ails provincial. Glowed the cheek of Alice, 

And hall' her thoughts wciii wandering to the Rhone 
From Chaleur Bay. 



No organ stands beneath a bust of Pallas, 

No painted Marius to the ruin clings, 
No Ganymede, borne up from airy Hellas, 

Looks through the darkness 'neath the eagles' wings. 



IN CHALEUR BAY. 

But the sweet pictures from the shadowed ceiling 
Reflect the firelight near old Hannah's chair, — 

One a fair girl with features full of feeling, 
And one a boy, a fisher, young and fair, 
Of Chaleur Bay, 



13 




tMi^^^^-^^^^^X'.' ^SS 



That boy returns with humble presents laden, 

And when the bells ring out on Christmas morn, 
To the old church he hopes to lead the maiden, 

And with one jewel her white hand adorn. 
Now Hannah drops her cheek — the maiden presses, 

"He will return when come the morning hours, 
And he will greet thee with his fond caresses, 

And thou shaft meet him diademed with flowers." 
Sweet Chaleur Bay ! 



14 IN CHALEUR BAY. 

Gray was the morning, but a light more tender 

Parted at last the storm-clouds' lingering glooms. 
The sun looked forth in mellowness and splendor, 

Drying the leaves amid the gentian blooms, 
And wrecks came drifting to the sandy reaches, 

As inward rolled the tide with sullen roar ; 
The fishers wandered o'er the sea-washed beaches 

And gathered fragments as they reached the shore 
Of Chaleur Bay. 

Then Alice, with the village maidens roaming 

Upon the beaches where the breakers swirl, 
Espied a fragment mid the waters foaming, 

And found a casket overlaid with pearl. 
It was a treasure. "Happy lie who claimed it," 

A maiden said ; " 't is worthy of a bride." 
Another maid "the ocean's dowry" named it, 

But gentle Alice, weeping, turned aside — 
Sad Chaleur Bay! — 

And went to Hannah with the new-found treasure, 

Ami stood again beside the old armchair; 
The maids stood round her radiant with pleasure. 

And playful wove the gentians in her hair. 
Then Hannah said, her feelings ill dissembling, 

"Some sailor lad this treasure once possessed; 
Ami now. perhaps," she added, pale and trembling, 

"His form lies sleeping 'neath the ocean's breast 
In Chaleur Bay." 

.Now on her knee the opened box she places, 
Her trembling hand Falls helpless to her breast, 

Into her face look up two pictured laces, — 
'I'll-' faces thai her sailor-bov loved best. 



IN CHALEUR BAY. 



15 



One picture bears the written words, " My Mother," 
Old Hannah drops her wrinkled cheek in pain ; 

" Alice" — sweet name — is writ beneath the other, — 
Old Hannah's tears fall over it like rain. 
Dark Chaleur Bay! 

The spring will come, the purple swallow bringing, 

Fair Easters bloom where Christmas snowflakes fell. 
But nevermore the time of flowers and singing 

Will hope revive in her poor heart to dwell. 
Life ne'er had brought to her so dark a chalice, 

But from her lips escaped no bitter groan ; 
They mid the gentians made the grave of Alice, 

And Hannah lives in her old cot alone 
On Chaleur Bav. 



ULc3 








'^5r, 



16 ADVENT. 



ADVENT. 

i. 

The world is very blest. 
All bright in east and west, 

Christ's kingdom shines. 
His name new nations take, 
His song new lands awake; 
For him the gods forsake 

Their golden shrines. 

II. 

His ransomed armies march 
'Neath heaven's melodious arch ; 

We follow on. 
Lead on, O Cross of Light, 
From conquering height to height, 
And add new triumphs bright 

To triumphs won. 

in. 

The brighl years onward sweep, 
Thai met on Patmos' steep 

The prophet's view. 
A fuller song of praise 
Each year the earth shall raise 
Till Paradisic days 

Begin anew. 



ADVENT. 



IV. 



Then ever hail the birth 

That made the gladdened earth 

Immanuel's. 
In wider circles sweet, 
Each year around his feet, 
Let choral hosts repeat, 

" God with us dwells ! " 




18 THE OLD MAX'S CHRISTMAS. 



THE OLD MAX'S CHRISTMAS. 

A BALLAD. 

'• Though I 'm lonely, my young daughter 
Now lives happy, far away," — Old Ballad. 

I. 

He sat by his cottage fire and dreamed,— 

The poor man, feeble and old; 
The silver locks o'er his shoulders streamed ; 

Fourscore years ago they were gold, 
Poor man, 

Fourscore years ago they were gold. 

ii. 

Be thought of his wife in the churchyard lone, 
He thought of his children three; 

They loo wen- gone with the years, save one, 
Ami Ear away was she, 

Poor man, 
Ami far away was she. 

in. 

He heard the winds of the sandy dimes 

Pipe wearily by the sen. 
He heard the moans and the hollow tones 

( M the waves of ilic Zuyder Zee, 
Poor man, 

And all alone was he. 



THE OLD MAN'S CHRISTMAS. 19 

IV. 

But he smiled, and the fire on his calm face shone ; 

And he said, " 'T is Christmas Day, 
And though I am poor, forgotten, and lone, 

She is happy far away, 

Sweet girl, 

She is happy, far away. 



v. 

" The household lights burn bright and clear 

In the city over the sea, 
But the night is dark by Haarlem Meer, 

And cold by the Zuycler Zee, 
Ah me, 

'T is cold by the Zuyder Zee. 



VI. 

" She sits, perchance, 'neath the astraPs light, 

And hears the city's bells, 
Or sings in the crowded church to-night, 

Where the organ's anthem swells, 
Sweet girl, 

Where the organ's anthem swells. 



VII. 

" Her mother's eyes, her hair of gold, 

I seem again to see ; 
Does she think to-night of her father old, 

Does she ever think of me, 
Dear girl, 

Does she ever think of me ? " 



20 THE OLD MAX'S CHRISTMAS. 



I. 

The northern winds pipe round the morgue 

In the city's suburbs lone, 
And mid the gloom in a desolate room 

Lies a fair dead form alone, 
Poor girl, 

In the silent morgue, alone. 



ii. 

She was a shop-girl," said the guard, 
As he closed the iron door. 
She lived alone, and her lot was hard, 
And we know nothing more, 

Poor girl ; 
Such things have been before. 



in. 

"They found her sick in the windy street, 

They heard her sob and moan : 
But she only said, as her spirit fled, 

- My father is all alone, 

Poor man, 

My father is all alone! ' 

IV. 

••<;<)(! pity the old man, all alone; 

I rod pity the fair young form, 
Thai will add a grave to the graves unknown, 

To-day in the pitiless storm, 
Poor girl, 

To-day in the pitiless storm." 



THE OLD MAN'S CHRISTMAS. 



21 



May the Advent bells that ring over the snows 

Bring comfort to such as these. 
Alas for the sorrow no man knows, 

For the sadness no man sees ! 
Alas and alas. 

For the sadness no man sees ! 

The household fires burn bright and clear 

In life's cities over the sea ; 
But the nights are dark by Haarlem Meer, 

And cold by the Zuyder Zee, 
Ah me ! 

Wherever the helpless be. 




k 



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22 THE GOLDEN STAR. 



THE GOLDEN STAR. 

[ CHRISTMAS. ] 
I. 

They brought to the cradle their gifts of gold, 

The gums of Araby sweet, 
And scattered them where the stars had rolled 

Round the Babe of Bethlehem's feet, 

ii. 

They had marched by night 'neath the diademed sky 

From the mountain-peaks afar. 
But why did the heathen first descry 

The light of the Golden Star? 

in. 

mystery of the nights of bliss, 

Pair nights of the Golden Star! — 
The Lord is love, and the world is his, 

And all nations his children arc 

» 

IV. 

Or whether he holds or breaks his seals, 

lie is near to all watchful eyes, 
Ami to those on the mountain-tops reveals 

The messages of the skies. 



FAIR MORN OF THE AGES. 



23 







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lit 



:\ 




FAIR MORN OF THE AGES. 



[ EASTER. 



Fatr morn of the ages, the sealed tomb is broken 

Proclaim it, melodious chimes ; 
The wonderful word has the Magdalene spoken. 

The hope of all people and times ! 



ii. 
The chorus cherubic bends rapturously o'er Him. 

The gates arc uplifted above; 
The nations arc hasting to hail and adore II in: 
And share the long reign of His love. 

1 By permission of John Church & Co. 



24 



FAIR MORX OF THE AGES. 



III. 



Now to their bright altars are gladdened hands bringing 

Fair buds from the life-giving seed ; 
And palm-lands to pine-lands are joyously singing, 

" The Saviour is risen indeed ! " 



IV. 



Sing, children of light, sing that wonderful hour; 

And perish, earth's oracles vain; 
No prophet like Jesus o'er death had the power 

To rise in life's beauty again. 



Burst, burst into bloom then, ye gardens of roses ; 

Sing, voices of spring, in the light; 
Peace falls from the palms of the Christ, and discloses 

His tomb, immortality's light! 




MARCH OF THE MAGI. 



25 



THE MARCH OF THE MAGI. 

We wait upon the mountains. 
Above us shine the golden lamps of God. 

'T is silent night, 
And we, the Magi, worshippers of tire, 
Renew the altars that have burned undimmed 
Upon these mountain tops a thousand years. 
Feed ye the flames, and sing — 

" I shall see Him, but not near, 

Shall behold Him, but not nigh. 
A Star shall rise from Jacob 

And fill the midnight sky ! 
And here upon the mountains 

Our altar-fires shall burn, 
Until that Star of Jacob 

Afar our steps shall turn ! " 

Hail, splendid orbs ! 
God scatters ye like seeds in space, to bloom 
In the wide gardens of heaven's flaming halls. 
The firmament grows bright, a crystal floor, 
An ocean quivering with celestial lire. 

Our fathers worshipped God 
Amid the palaces of the Persepolis. 
The city was the glory of the sun, 
The crown of all the cities of the world. 



26 



MARCH OF THE MAGI. 




HB 




*T is vanished now ; her palaces 

are dust; 
The slimy lizards fill her broken 

pavements ; 
Vanished are her kings. 

Hail, splendid orbs! 
Our fathers eyes beheld thee, — 

all the great 
Of earth, the earliest born of 

men. All hail I 
Our father Abraham watched thee 

night by night. 
In Mesopotamian tents. Jacob 

beheld 
Thy silent marches under Mamre's 

oak : 
Joseph, at On. Zoroaster, priest 

of God, 
Thy mysteries read : and he did 

prophesy 
Another star should rise, and fill 

the sky 
With brightness, and the earth 

forevermore 
With wonder. Feed ye the flames, 
and sing: — 

" / shall see Him. but not near, 

Shall behold Him, hut not nigh 
A Star shall rise from Jacob, 

Ami Jill the midnight sky ! 
Ami here upon the mountains 

Our <ilt<ir-fir<-x shall hum. 
Until the Star "J' Jacob 

Afar "ii, ■ steps shall (urn .' " 



MARCH OF THE MAGI. 

A thousand years 
Upon the mountain-tops the holy seers 
Have watched the rising stars, weary nights. 
It does not come ; it does not yet appear. 
The wondrous nights go on, and on, and on. 
We feed the fires and watch, and it will come, 
For God is God. 




^ 








tifsa 




The altars blaze 
And lift their splendors in night's shadowy halls. 
We keep the watch our fathers left to us, 
And sing the song our poet-prophet sang, 
And that the priests of Baal have sung with hope, 
Through all the vanished nights of vanished vears. 



28 MARCH OF THE MAGI. 

Behold yon light ! 
It rises: wondrous sight, — a star, a cross. 
A coronet of fire \ 



Let the altars die. 
Our watch is ended. Lo, it westward moves. 
Let us descend the mountain-stairs, and hence 
The glorious portent follow. Farewell, 
Ye flaming heights, we go to lands unknown, 
Towards the Jordan. Yet once more, priests, 
The sons of Balaam sing: — 



" I shall see Him, but not near, 

Shall behold Him, but not nigh. 
A Star shall rise from Jacob, 

And fill the midnight sky! 
And here upon the mountains 

Our altar-fires shall burn, 
Until the Star of Jacob 

Afar our steps si tall turn!" 



THE TEARS OF THE POOR. 29 



THE TEARS OF THE POOR. 



The city was dark, and the night wind blew dreary, 

The lamps dimly burned in the mist and the sleet : 
I longed for my home, with my day's work aweary. 

And homeward was turning, with hurrying feet. 
I was thinking of life and its fortunes that vary, 

Its paths that are narrow, its ways that are broad ; 
When a hand touched my own, and a voice faltered, "Mary — 

In the name of sweet Mary, the mother of God, 
Pity, oh, pity the tears of the poor ! " 

n. 
Impatient I turned, but a moment I tarried 

(The creed was not mine the petition expressed), — 
I saw the white face of a mother who carried 

A half-covered babe on her half-covered breast : 
Then I passed on my way, but a burden fell on me. 

And heavier grew as the lone street I trod, 
And I still seemed to feel that white hand laid upon me, 

"In the name of sweet Mary, the mother of God, 
Pity, oh, pity the tears of the poor ! " 

in. 

More dark grew the night and the north wind more dreary. 
As backward I turned, — in the lamplight she stood. 

And swayed in the mist, with her burden aweary, 
And helplessly asked for a morsel of I nod. 



30 



THE TEARS OF THE POOR. 



Ill Christ's name I gave her the help sorely needed, 
When a word from her quivering lips made me start : 

" And was it the name of the Lord that you heeded, 
Or the name of the Mother that softened the heart, 
And led you to pity the tears of the poor?" 

IV. 

Then homeward I hurried, light-hearted and cheery, 

Though keen blew the winds through the trees thickly iced, 
For happiness comes to the way-worn and weary, 

Who stop like the feet of Samaria's Christ. 
And I said, " Though the creed and the ritual vary. 

O'er man's narrow hounds are the wants that are broad; 
And sorrow will cry to some deified Mary, 

If heed not compassion the name of the Lord, 
Nor pauses to pity the tears of the poor." 




r 






THE DOOR TO LIFE. 



31 




THE DOOR OF DEATH IS THE DOOR TO LIFE. 1 



As the timid feet of the Magdalene came 

To the tomb of the Lord in the silence of night, 
The morning enkindled its rosy flame, 

And crystal stars paled in the orient light. 
The darkness fled like the darkness of sin, 

The silent light rose like the gospel day ; 
Lo ! the tomb was open ! And nought therein 

Of the Lord of Life but the cerements lay ! 

n. 

While yet was silent and lone the night, 

While yet was the dome of heaven starred, 
From the throne on high came the angel of light, 

And the tomb of the Lord of Life unbarred. 
Then the women came to the garden in awe, 

As the flush of morn on the far hills shone ; 
Seeking the dead mid the living, and saw 

But the empty rock and the sealed stone. 



in. 

Then Mary wept at death's silent door, 

And waged with the doubt of her heart a strife; 

And knew not the promise, that "evermore 
The door of death is the door to life!" 
1 By permission of John Church & Co. 



32 THE DOOR TO LIFE. 

Oh, ye who weep at death's silent door, 

And wage with the doubts of your hearts a strife, 

The Lord is risen ! and evermore 

The door of death is the door to life ! 

IV. 

Mary of Magdala ! thou shalt hear 

Thy sweet name breathed by the Lord again, 
And worship his feet as they draw anear, 

To lift from thy bosom its load of pain. 
Our friends may vanish, the tomb may close, 

And bitterness wage in our hearts its strife ; 
They have risen in Jesus, and live with those 

Who have passed through the portals of death to life! 

v. 

Then weep no more at death's silent door, 

Nor wage with the doubt of thy heart a strife ; 
Remember the promise, that " evermore 

The door of death is the door to life ! " 
Oli, ye who weep at death's silent door, 

And wage with the doubts of your hearts a strife, 
The Lord is risen ! and evermore 

The door of death is the door to life ! 




GUILLAUME. 33 



GUILLAUME. 
CHRISTMAS AT DOVER. 

Oh, light was the heart of Duke William, 

The minstrels all playing with glee, 
His fleet dancing bright on the Channel, 

And Normandy sunk in the sea ; 
Above him, the sky of September, 

Below him the waters at rest, 
And snowy sails breaking around him 

The light of the opaline west : 
The thousand ships dropping their pennons, 

The gonfalons waving in view, 
His ensign, the Normandy Lions, 

Rolled out from the mast in the blue. 
"Do you see," said the Duke to the nobles, 

" The green island rising afar ? 
Its forests are broader and fairer 

Than those of old Xormandy are. 
A thousand prows cleaving the ocean 

Ten thousand men bear to the foe, 
And soon in yon forests the hunters 

The Xormandy bugle shall blow." 

Oh, hard was the battle that followed! 

The Normans, as reddened the air 
The moon of the golden September, 

Bowed down on the meadows in prayer: 



34 



GUILLAUME. 



They sang the great war-song of Roland 

When morning uplifted its light, 
And the three Norman Lions victorious 

Waved over the carnage at night. 
The standards of England were taken 

Mid plumed arrows falling like rain. 
And King Harold, discrowned and forsaken, 

Was found in heaps of the slain. 
Then over the Thames and the Severn. 

And over the Humber and Dee, 
From the Cape of the North to the Channel 

Waved the Lions of Xormandv three. 




Years passed: at the Castle of Dover 

King William his Christmas-tide kept, 
A\n\ when the long banquei was over, 

To ili<' turret in loneliness crept. 
The Cinque Ports were calm, and the monarch 

( razed over the sea as of old, 
And he Bighed as the past rose before him 

In memories clouded and cold. 



GUILLAUME. 35 

I remember Falaise and the songs that we snug 
When eventide gathered the old and the young, 
And over the vineyards the golden moon hung, 
In the years that are fled. 

My fleet on the waters again I behold. 
The gonfalons waving, the pennons of gold, 
The three bannered Lions of Normandy old, 

As in years that are fled. 

I pointed to England, and proudly behind 
The wings of a thousand ships rose on the wind. 
And the sun, sinking low. on the serried shields shined, 

In the years that are fled. 

•• Pevensey I " The shout from a thousand ships rung ; 
To Hastings we marched the green hill-sides among, 
And there the great war-song of Roland we sung. 

In the years that are fled. 

And calm was the evening, the moon it was round. 
The dead and the dying lay thick on the ground, 
As I stood by the side of young Harold discrowned. 
In the years that are lied. 

My army from slumber awakened each day 

The yeomen to harry, the foemen to slay. 
They fought by the Humbor. they fought by the Tay, 
In the years that are fled. 

Fecamp glows before me, — the feasts debonair, 
The troubadours' dance in the torch-lighted air. 
The full wine that flowed 'neath the coronals there, 
In the years that are fled. 



36 



GUILLAUME. 




The scutcheon of Conqueror shines on the wall; 
My triumphs are arrased in yonder bright hall; 
Ami chronicled there, where the tapestries Pall, 
A iv the years thai are flee 



GUILLAUME. 

lily red wars are ending ; o'er wrinkles of care 
Time's coronet silver encircles my hair; 
Alas and alas for the son of Robert, 

And the years that are fled. 

Hark! ... A young mother sings on the terrace below 
To the babe on her breast an old rune of Bayeux ; 
My crown would I give its sweet slumbers to know. 
And to lie in its stead ! 

I long for my youth, for the heart of a friend, 
For the peace that the palms of the Crucified send. 
My conquests are dust, and darkens the end 

The years that are dead. 



37 



A 




«3T 



38 



LIGHT-HEARTED AMID THE SNOW. 



LIGHT-HEARTED AMID THE SNOW. 



CHRISTMAS. 



I. 



The snow-flakes fell on her golden hair 
As she hied from her home away, 

And bright to her as the April air 
Was the shadowy Christmas day. 







Yes, fair as the daisied fields were the skies. 

For her hearl was glad and warm, 
And it changed the world In a paradise, 

And to blossoming air the storm. 



LIGHT-HEARTED AMID THE SNOW. 



39 



III. 



Laugh on, laugh on, maiden fair, 

Laugh on in the storm while you may; 

The snow will fall on your golden hair 
On another Christmas day. 



IV. 



The snow of years will fall on your hair, 
May the Christmas hope still glow, 

And you will be then as free from care, 
And light-hearted amid the snow. 



^£rr> A rzQgSSs 



;>;-->. 




40 BLIXD-MAX'S-B UFF. 



BLIND-MAN'S-BUFF. 

[ CHRISTMAS. ] 

King Robert of the Truce of God, 
Beloved alike of laic lord 

And peasant, — long his reign, — 
His gold he to the needy threw : 
What Christmases old Flanders knew 

And golden Acqnitaine ! 

Peace reigned in every province fair, 
And lords and knights were debonair 

In those rare days of grace. 
But one lone champion won renown, 
A chief who lived in Liege's town 

Beside the dimpled Maas. 

His name was Colin, and he bore 
A fame no chief e'er won before, 

For I (lows in battle hard ; 
Eis mallet swinging in each hand, 
Ee oft unaided slew a band, — 

They called him .Jean Mallard. 

He fought lor loyalty and truth, 

And, fighting, spent Hie strength of youth, 

And every foe withstood ; 
Till, late in life, againsi him rose 
Count Louvain with a hundred Iocs, 

In Ardennes' summer wood. 



BLIND-MAN' S-B UFF. 



41 




The fight was hot, the fight was hard. 
But 'gainst them all stood old Mallard 

And faced a hundred spears ; 
Till, taking him by swift surprise, 
They smote his face and pierced his eyes, 

While Ardennes rung with cheers. 



42 BLIND-MAN' S-B UFF. 

But, Samson-like, though blind, he dealt 
Such blows as never foeman felt; 

To shun them were in vain ; 
This way they fled, and that they run, 
But of the bravest men not one 

E'er saw the light again. 

For hawk and hound in Ardennes green, 
For tilting spear and gleaming scene 

Within the charmed ring. 
Young Robert led a merry court ; 
And far the harpers did report 

He was a merry king. 

One day, upon the snow-tilled dells, 

Old Bruges dropped her Christmas bells, 

And gayly sung the bards. 
Then called the king his sportive wights, 
And bade them act, in mimic fights, 

Such deeds as old Mallard's. 

They blinded one with vizor tight, 
And, armed with mallet for the fight, 

lb' bade the others fly. 
And friend and foe did he pursue, 
Till king and princes from him Hew, 
Each laughing merrily. 

His mallet fell with rapid stroke, 
And now a prince's jewels broke, 

And now a lady's pearls. 
Bui <>|'t the maids his stroke did miss, 
Ami lor a blow he gave a kiss, 

While laughed the captive girls. 



BLIND-MAN' S-B UFF. 

The king repeated oft the play; 
The children followed, day by day, 

In merriment as rough. 
And year by year did sportive feet 
On merry Christmases repeat 

The £ame of Blixd-Max's-Buff. 



48 




When winged crystals fill the air. 
And all the fields grow white and fair. 

And breaks the Christmas day. 
The olden game of chief and lord, 
Of Robert and the Truce of God, 

Well may the children play. 



44 



BLIXD-JIAX'S-B UFF. 



And like him of the kindly heart, 
Let us the gold of God impart, 

To lighten want and pain. 
And heart and hall will then renew 
Such Christmases as Bruges knew 

And golden Acquitaine. 




THE BELLS OF URL 



45 




THE BELLS OF URL 



[NEW YEAR'S.] 

[Lake Uri unites with Lake Lucerne. Each lake is surrounded with simple chapels, 
the bells in whose white towers were once rung during storms, in the belief that the music 
would dissipate them. Over both lakes rises Mt. Pilatus, dark and cloudy, on whose 
summit, Pontius Pilate, according to tradition, met his fate by throwing himself into one 
of the lakes in the region of the clouds.] 



Fraulein, how light the boatmen row! 

Lucerna's deeps lie still ; 
And Uri's bells ring sweet and low 

From distant hill to hill. 
I love the calm, still lake, Fraulein, 

The son^s the boatmen sin"', 
But drop a tear whene'er I hear 

The bells of Uri ring. 



46 THE BELLS OF URL 

Gretchen, Gretchen, lift thy eyes, 
The sun of night how fair ! 

How grandly Pilate's peaks arise 
In yon celestial air ! 

1 love Lucerna's placid ways, 
The songs her boatmen sing ; 

And my heart beats light to hear at night 
The bells of Uri ring. 

Fraulein, the scenes of other years 

My shadowy memory fill : 
Those bells no more my father hears ; 

The world for him is still. 
And ever on such eves as this 

My thoughts will backward wing; 
And falls the tear whene'er I hear 

The bells of Uri ring. 

The moon in still Lucerna lies; 

And see, my little maid, 
How fair the crystal peaks arise 

Above the Righi's shade ! 
The young bird seeks its nest no more 

When summer plumes its wing ; 
And long, as they have done before, 

Shall Uri's sweet bells ring. 

Fraulein, my mother once was young, 

Like mine her heart was gay; 
For her the bridal songs were sung 

On yonder liilTs chdlet. 
For her, Fraulein, will come no more 

The year's returning spring; 
She'll never walk with me the shore 

When [Jri's sweel bells ring! 



THE BELLS OF URL 47 

Gretchen, Gretchen, think no more 

On that forgotten clay ; 
When birds above the valley soar 

Their shadows flee away. 
Lay gently on the old year's graves 

The Edelweiss each spring; 
And smile, my dear, whene'er you hear 

The bells of Uri ring ! 

Fraulein, the bright days disappear ; 

One day will come the spring ; 
Nor you nor I again will hear 

The bells of Uri ring. 
Then chide me not if stormless hours 

Like these a sadness bring, 
And falls the tear whene'er I hear 

The bells of Uri ring. 

Ah, Gretchen, when Death's mystic night 

To thee shall angels bear, 
And thou with them shaft plume thy flight 

Through life's immortal air ; 
When yon fair lake for thee is still, 

And other boatmen sing, 
Thou 'It shed no tear that others hear 

The bells of Uri ring! 



48 



THE EASTER BELLS IN THE MIST. 



-.vfc--. 




■er 



erf 



THE EASTER BELLS IN TLIE MIST. 



The cloud from the ocean is lifting ; 
And my bark, as I breathlessly list, 

On the refluent tides is drifting 

Towards the city of bells in the mist, 
Towards the city of bells in the mist. 

it. 
The ocean lies darkly behind me, 

The storms through the cordage that hissed ; 
And I hear, though the cloud shadows blind me, 

die music of bells in the mist, 

The music of bells iu the mist. 



in. 



And fond hopes T cherished are bringing 
Tin tears thai I cannol resist, 



THE EASTER BELLS IN THE MIST. 49 

As I hear in the viewless towers ringing 
Old Trinity's bells in the mist, 
Old Trinity's bells in the mist. 

IV. 

Ah me, what fond hope and emotion ! 

So near to the lips I have kissed ! 
Methinks that my life is an ocean, 

And the end but a shore in the mist, 

And the end but a shore in the mist. 

v. 

A haven of rest lies before me ; 

And I hear through the calms, as I list, 

From the city unseen rising o'er me, 

The sweet bells of Hope through the mist, 
The sweet bells of Hope through the mist. 

VI. 

The mist in the morning is glowing 
With a glory it cannot resist; 

And calmed tides are refluent flowing 

Towards the music that falls through the mist, 
Towards the music that falls through the mist. 

VII. 

Parted hands, that were trustful and tender, 

Parted lips, that once fondly I kissed, 
For you is the shadowless splendor, 

For me is the sail in the mist, — 

The white sail of Faith in the mist. 
4 



CHRISTMAS EVE IN THE CATACOMBS 



A TALE OF THE AGE OF AURELIAN. 



[Christmas, according to tradition, was first celebrated in the chapels of the cata- 
combs of Rome during the reign of Anrelian. The Roman Saturnalia was changed to 
the festival of Christmas after the triumph of Christianity in the West.] 



Sicelides Musae, paulo majora eanamus : 
Non omnes arbusta juvant humiles que myricse : 
Si canimus silvas, silvse sint coiasule dignaB. 
Ultima Cumyei veuit jam earminis setas: 
Magnus at integro sseelorum nascitur ordo, 
Jam redit et Virgo, redeunt Saturnia regna ; 
Jam nova progenies coelo demittitur alto. 

Virgil, Pollio. 



THE CHAPEL OF THE CATACOMBS. 

Part I. 

THE PILGRIM OF THE NIGHT. 

In those strange days 
When Christian martyrs put to flight the gods 
Of Pome, the Church walked not as now with torch 
Of faith inverted, and eyes bent upon 
Life's outward forms. 

Faith scaled the walls of heaven. 
The air was spanned with bows prophetic ; 
Men saw the Lord in earth and sea and sky; 
And every cloud that crossed the sun's bright track 
Appeared an angel's chariot. 

The festivals — 
Green Christmas, lilied Easter now — were feasts 
Of soul alone in the still chapels under ground. 

'T was the day of the Saturnalia, 

When War and Labor ceased : 
In the porticos of the Capitol 

Was spread the harvest feast ; 
Through the streets a gay procession 

Swept like a glimmering tide : 
'T was a day of Rome in her glory, 

A day of Rome in her pride. 



54 CHRISTMAS EVE IN THE CATACOMBS. 

The clustered wine lay heavy 
In the vineyards of Tivoli. 
The gardens were filled with plenty 

Frum Alba's hills to the sea. 
And pride tilled the heart of Aurelian, 

As the halls of the Capitol rung 
With the lauds of the Golden Ages, 
By the bards of Saturn sung. 

Night came : on the wide Oampagna 

Was never a night more fair. — 
The golden moon, like a goddess, 

Rode low in the golden air. 
The nobles and peasants feasted. 

In the palaces, side by side ; 
Twas a night of Rome in her glory, 

A night of Rome in her pride. 

A white-haired man. that evening, 

Passed slowly the throngs among, 
And he heard as he plodded onward, 

The lauds of Saturn sung. 
Without the gates, lit- slowly 

Passed down the Appian Way, 
To the quarries where a chapel 

'Neath the white Campagna lay. 

And there, in the sea of moonlight, 

In tli*- purple dusk and gloom, 
The thin form seemed to vanish 

Lik<' :i ghosl into n tomb. 
ilr entered the Martyrs' Chapel, 

An-], 'neath the torches' glare, 
!!<■ bowed his head and listened 

T i a sweel chanl rising there. 



THE PILGRIM OF THE XIGHT. 



55 




The Earth was all silent, 
When, Night's crystal gates unbarred^ 

And bright with angels, 
All the heavens were starred. 



56 CHRISTMAS EVE IN THE CATACOMBS. 

Like an orient splendor 

Gloived the vision full and clear. 
Then rose the Night Pilgrims , 
And Bethlehem drew near. 
Pilgrims, 
Lone Pilgrims, 
Journeying 'neath the mystic light, 
Seeking, 
Christ seeking, 
Seeking in the Night. 

II. 

Pilgrims, Night Pilgrims, 
On we march in spirit still, 

Stars shine above us, 
Songs the heavens fill. 
Where is He, eartlis Stranger, — 
Joy and hope of all mankind? 
Ln the heart's loiv manger, 
Jesus seek and find. 
Pilgrims, 
Night Pilgrims, 
Angels sing thy quest to cheer. 
Pilgrims, 
Night Pilgrims, 
Jesus still is here ! 



THE CHAPEL OF THE CATACOMBS. 57 



Part II. 

THE CHAPEL OF THE CATACOMBS. 

Night Pilgrim : 

" Peace, brothers, peace ! 
I come to thee once more in Jesu's name, 
A pilgrim of the night. I wished to share 
The Agapse with you once more : to see 
The tombs within the Martyrs' Chapel. This is 
The night of our Immanuel. 

" I do remember well the day 
I came to Rome. Ignatius bid me come, 
And faithful Polycarp, — blessed martyrs each, 
And bosom friends of the Beloved John. 

" John ! — How Polycarp loved him, 
And in communion sweet with him about 
The Lord, how he was drawn towards heaven ! 
John laid his hands on him, and bid him preach 
The word in the fair city of the iEgean Sea, — 
Smyrna, whose sails go out to every land. 
A faithful witness to the truth was he, 
A Golden Candlestick, one of the Seven. 
I saw him stand that day amid the flames 
Unbound, I saw him when he fell 
Upon the fagots: his face was turned to heaven, 
And filled with joy ineffable. 

" Ignatius ! — 
The little child that Jesus took into 
His arms and blessed ! — I well remember him, 
Sent forth by John to preach in Antioch. 



58 CHRISTMAS EYE IN THE CATACOMBS, 

I heard the shout go up, the shout of hell, 
In the great Coliseum, when rushed the beasts 
Upon him. Borne ! Rome ! his blood one day 
Will be required of thee ! 

" What sights I 've seen ! 
What blessings had ! John was taught of Christ. 
And I by John's disciples. Christ's kingdom comes. 
It shall arise from out the ruined shrines 
Of Rome, for Rome shall vanish. All her gods 
Shall vanish with her smoke into the air." 

The old man paused, 
And gazed about him. In the garish light 
Of flaming torches, here and there appeared 
The emblems graven on the martyrs' tombs, — 
The cross, the dove, the dove upon the cross, 
And the Good Shepherd, and on every hand 
The martyr's cup and palm. 

Night Pilgrim : 

" Palms of victory ! Shouts of glory ! 
Have ye not seen them waving in the streets ? 
Have ye not heard them filling all the air? 
It's been a golden day in golden Rome, 
And happy is Aurelian. 

" And now 't is night. 
The full-orbed sun of nighl hangs in the air, 
And \\\\\ the jewelled cups with plenteous wine, 
In the white palaces. 

" Palms of victory ! 
I. too. have seen and sec them. There arc palms, 
Look ;it them on the walls: this is a bower 
Of palms; ii looks to me Like Paradise. 

*• Look, look upon the walls ! 
Between the sepulchres! ho! who are these? 



THE CHAPEL OF THE CATACOMBS. 59 

I hear an angel answer : 

" ' These be they ivho have put off 
Their i^erishable clothing, and noiv are crowned 
With crowns immortal; to them are given 
The palms eternal ; they have overcome, 
And high ascended in the light of Gcod? y 

The old man upward looked : 

" messenger divine, 
Who is this so young that crowneth them, 
And gives them palms of everlasting verdure, — 
Who is this so young and fair ? 

Hush ! the angel : 

" ' It is the Son of God whom they confessed, 
Born of a Virgin, crucified for men, 
Ascended into glory.'' 

Look on yonder tomb, 
As flares the torch before it. What do ye read ? 

" ' Alexander is not dead ; he rests in Christ, 
And lives beyond the stars. He passed away 
Under Antonius. While on his knees 
About to sacrifice to the true God, 
They summoned htm to death. 

" < Oh, hopeless times, 
When in the caverns and the dens of earth 
It is not safe to dwell. happy martyrs, 
Ye shall shine in heaven.' 

" Yes, blessed saint, 
He lives beyond the stars. There I shall live. 
Thin, thin to-dav lias seemed the veil to me 



60 CHRISTMAS EVE IN THE CATACOMBS. 

Between my soul and the eternal city ; 

And as to-night I tottered on my way 

And looked about, each drifting cloud appeared 

An angel's car. 

" Yes, 't will be ended soon ; 
This mould of flesh will soon dissolve, and I 
Shall join the martyrs, and receive my palm ; 
Christ soon is coming in the clouds for me. 
In the morning when I wake I see Him near 
Most wonderfully beautiful ; and every night 
The early vision is the last to fade. 

"It is the Saturnalia. 
The city celebrates the Age of Gold. 
A glory lights the temples of the Sibyl. 

" Let me prophesy : 
The Age of Gold in Christ will soon begin ; 
Saturn will vanish and his feast will die ; 
And not in martyrs' chapels under ground, 
But in the glorious temples of all lands, 
The saints shall hold the Festival of Peace, 
And hail the birth of Christ as King of kings." 

Again the old man paused. 
A holy rapture seemed to fill his face, — 
A light ineffable. 

"The earth shall sweep through mist and cloud, 

Through violence and wrong, 
Bui every bind shall own our Lord 

And hear the angels' song. 

"The heavenly IVuii is ripe to fall. 

As spake Eseas' tongue. 
Fulfil the Sibyl's dreams, and nil 

Etrurian Virgil sung. 



THE CHAPEL OF THE CATACOMBS. 



61 




" Night of Time, roll on, roll on, 
With Bethlehem's starry splendor, 

Not ages past, but those to come, 
Shall Christ his kingdom render. 



62 CHRISTMAS EVE IN THE CATACOMBS. 

•' Apollo, smitten, shall depart, 

Minerva lone and wan ; 
And change the church to holy art 

The pastoral pipes of Pan. 

" And when the Rome of old renown 

The pagans' feet have trod. 
Another Rome herself shall crown, 

ATith golden domes of God.'' 

Still brighter grew 
The Pilgrim's face : prophetic fire had touched 
The altar of his heart; his lips seemed lost 
For words ; his thoughts were more than utterance. 

; - It comes! the invisible reign is appearing; 

The armies of heaven its advent attend. 
It comes ! and man's spiritual vision is clearing ; 

To spirits imprisoned in flesh it descends. 
It comes, lo, it conies ! 

" Unseen are its hosts and the war that it wages ; 

Without observation the swelling tide runs. 
Then say not, Lo, here ! or Lo, there ! through the ages 

It grows with all peoples, it follows all suns. 
It comes, lo, it comes! 

"The midnight hour is past, 
Still flow the cups in yonder golden halls, 
And we will feast from the Eternal Tables. 
Tins is our feast of Charity. 

Hark! — " 

The old man paused. 

A sound of hurrying feel was heard, and then 



THE CHAPEL OF THE CATACOMBS. 



63 



A ghastly face appeared, and terror seized 
The silent company. 

Messenger* : 

" Ye are betrayed. 
The gates of Rome are closed to yon forever, 
The festival of peace is ended, and 
Sentinels at all the city's gates 
Are ^vatchino; vonr return." 

Worshippers : 

"Then ^ve are exiles?" 



rfffe&L 



Is 




p^^^ 



"^ <r 



Mmm 



64 CHRISTMAS EVE IN THE CATACOMBS. 



Part III. 

THE CITY OF THE STARS. 

Night Pilgrim : 

" Exiles ? 
From Rome the crown of cities ? Rome, that holds 
The crown of crowns of earth ? 

" I see her in a vision. 
All she has been for twice a thousand years, 
As in a long procession, sweeps before 
My eves. 

"The Tiber flows beneath me, 
And the Palatine lies dreaming in the sun. 
I see iEneas bring his household gods 
To Latium. I see the long slow line 
Of Latin kings; the hundred Latin fathers; 
Romulus ; Pompilius ; Tullus. I see 
Grand Cincinnatus leave his plough, and win 
His victory for the State, and turn again 
Towards the Tiber; the Decemviri; 
The Gauls, that, pouring o'er the Alps, flash down 
Upon the ill-defended walls and slay 
The defiant senators; the Punic wars; 
The fall of Carthage; and the successive pomps 
That follow her bright car of victory. 

" She now is Queen. 
Corinth is hers, and Macedon and Syracuse; 
Her eagles fly to devastate the world. 
Now Caesar takes the purple, and the line 
Of emperors thai rule the world begins. 



THE CITY OF THE STARS. 65 

" Your looks are sad. 
Banished are we ? Do ye not know, have ye not learned 
There is another city, — a city of the stars ? 
A thousand suns blaze round its gates, and it 
Shall never perish. We are pilgrims here. 

" Your looks are sad. 
Listen, while I read ; they are the words of Paul : 

" ' Jerusalem which is above is free, 
Which is the mother of us all.' 

" I wait my master's summons, 
As waits the Roman soldier in the light 
Of the faint morning, for the trumpet's call. 

Are ye not content ? 



" I would not stay the years that wing, 

Howe'er my lot be cast ; 
Nor say, Sun, look back and bring 

One day from out the past. 
He ever will my portion be 

Whom me to Him did call: 
Jerusalem above is free, 

And mother of us all. 

II. 

" The doors of earth may close to me, 

Warm hearts to me grow cold, 
And sympathy be strange to me 

When life is long and old. 
Or well or ill, afar I see 

Fair Zion's love-lit hall: 
Jerusalem above is free, 

And mother of us all. 
5 



66 CHRISTMAS EVE IN THE CATACOMBS. 

III. 

" Free are her happy gates to prayer, 

And open night and day ; 
The tuneful lyres grow sweeter there 

When earth-worn pilgrims pray ; 
And wakes the strain of Jubilee, 

When helpless sinners call : 
Jerusalem above is free, 

And mother of us all. 

IV. 

"Free are the fadeless bowers of rest, 

And free their joys untold ; 
Free are the mansions of the blest, 

And free the streets of gold. 
Though hidden long the glories be, 

Salvation is the wall : 
Jerusalem above is free, 

And mother of us all. 



" The outcast there may find a rest, 

The lost may there be found ; 
Compassion is Emmanuel's breast, 

And love Immanuel's ground. 
When human ears reject the plea, 

A Prince will hear the call, 
For fair Jerusalem is IVee, 

And mother of us all. 

VI. 

"Above all heavens, a voice I hear 
Dispelling every doubt, — 

Who comes to Me, this Pierced Eland 
Will never c;isl 111 111 out. 



THE CITY OF THE STARS. 67 

Power to become a son of God 

Awaits him at his call ; 
For God's own city shall be free, 

And mother of us all. 

VII. 

" God's City of the Stars ! Thy head 

With coronals is bright, 
The emerald rainbows o'er thee shed 

Their soft attempered light. 
Around thee blaze a thousand suns; 

Earth's tapers, oh, how small ! 
And thou art to my spirit free, 

And mother of us all. 

VIII. 

" The ruby from the rose may fade, 

The crystal from the stream, 
And jasper sunsets melt in shade 

Like jewels of a dream. 
But from thy radiant walls no gem 

Shall ever fade or fall : 
And thou art free, Jerusalem, 

And mother of us all. 

IX. 

" Soon, soon with sin the daily strife 

Will be forever o'er, 
And I shall pass from life to life 

Through Mercy's open door. 
My soul in fairer worlds than this 

Has built her mansion wall: 
Jerusalem above is free, 

And mother of us all. 



68 CHRISTMAS EVE IN THE CATACOMBS. 

X. 

" Beat on, heart, time's latest breath 

Has nought to cause thy fear ; 
Beat on, heart, and long for death, 

When Jesus shall appear. 
When earthly fountains fail, the sea 

Of God's great love recall : 
Jerusalem above is free, 

And mother of us all. 

XL 

" starry heights, to which my feet 

In darkness wend their way ! 
sea of peace, whose tides retreat 

Just out of sight each day : 
Through doors of Providence to me 

I hear the Saviour call : 
But thou, Jerusalem, art free, 

And mother of us all. 

XII. 

"Home! home! I shall go home at last; 

My soul the summons waits, 
A: id day by day her journey makes 

Around the golden gates. 
The voice may call at noon ; the stroke 

\\ midnight hour may fall : 
Jerusalem above is hv<\ 

Ami mother of us all. 

XIII. 

"Then close, ye nates of Rome, to me! 

Warm hearts, to me grow cold ! 
Build ye the martyr's fires and tree 

The spirit from the mould. 



THE CITY OF THE STARS. 69 

Heir of the Cross, it matters not 

How this worn tent may fall : 
The city of the stars is free, 

The mother of us all. 

XIV. 

" I would not stay the years that wing, 

Howe'er my lot be cast ; 
Nor say, Sun, look back and bring 

One day from out the past. 
He ever will my portion be, 

Whose goodness I recall; 
Jerusalem above is free, 

And mother of us all." 

The worshippers arose, 
And Pilgrims of the Night their faces set 
Towards Puteoli. 

Pilgrims, 

Night Pilgrims, 
Angels sing thy quest to cheer. 
Pilgrims, 
Night Pilgrims, 
Jesus still is near! 



70 THE TIME IS SHORT. 



THE TIME IS SHORT. 



[ NEW YEAR'S. ] 

I sometimes feel the thread of life is slender, 
And soon with me the labor will be wrought ; 
Then grows my heart to other hearts more tender. 

The time, 

The time is short. 

A shepherd's tent of reeds and flowers decaying, 
That night winds soon will crumble into nought ; 
So seems my life, for some rude blast delaying. 

The time, 

The time is short. 

Up, up, my soul, the long-spent time redeeming; 
Sow thou the seeds of better deed and thought; 
Light other lamps, while yet thy light is beaming. 

The time, 

The time is short. 

Think of the good thou might'st have done, when brightly 
The suns to thee life's choicest seasons brought; 
Hours lost lo Gbd in pleasures passing lightly. 

The time, 

The lime is short. 



THE TIME IS SHORT. 71 

Think of the drooping eyes thou might' st have lifted 
To see the good that Heaven to thee hath taught ; 
The unhelped wrecks that past life's bark have drifted. 

The time, 

The time is short. 

Think of the feet that fall by misdirection ; 
Of noblest souls to loss and ruin brought, 
Because their lives are barren of affection. 

The time, 

The time is short. 

The time is short. Then be thy heart a brother's 
To every heart that needs thy help in aught ; 
Soon thou may'st need the sympathy of others. 

The time, 

The time is short. 

If thou hast friends, give them thy best endeavor, 
Thy warmest impulse and thy purest thought, 
Keeping in mind in word and action ever 

The time, 

The time is short. 

Each thought resentful from thy mind be driven, 
And cherish love by sweet forgiveness bought ; 
Thou soon wilt need the pitying love of Heaven. 

The time, 

The time is short. 

Where summer winds, aroma-laden, hover, 
Companions rest, their work forever wrought; 
Soon other graves the moss and fern will cover. 

The time, 

The time is short. 



12 



THE TIME IS SHORT. 



Up, up, my soul, the shade will soon be falling; 
Some good return in later seasons wrought ; 
Forget thyself, at duty's angel's calling. 

The time, 

The time is short. 

By all the lapses thou hast been forgiven, 
By all the lessons prayer to thee hath taught, 
To others teach the sympathies of Heaven. 

The time, 

The time is short. 

To others teach the overcoming power 

That thee at last to God's sweet peace hath brought; 

Glad memories make to bless life's final hour. 

The time, 

The time is short. 




BY AHAVA RIVER. 



73 




BY AHAVA RIVER. 



Then I proclaimed a fast there, at the river of Ahava, that we might afflict our- 
selves before our God, to seek of him a right way for us, and for our little ones, and 
for all our substance. 

For I was ashamed to require of the king a band of soldiers and horsemen to help 
us against the enemy in the way : because we had spoken uuto the kiug, saying, 
The hand of our God is upon all them for good that seek him ; but his power and 
his wrath is against all them that forsake him. 

So we fasted and besought our God for this ; and he was entreated of us. — Ezra 
viii. 21-23. 

The sun had set. 
The silver stars hung low, and blazed afar 
Like lights around the mountains. 



The Prophet rose, 
He whom great Artaxerxes, king of kings, 
Directed to God's temple. 

His face was bright 
With all the holy radiance of the soul, 
And, 'neath the first month's trembling moon, 
He spake of lofty faith and answered prayer, 
And cheered his fellow-prophets on their way 
Toward the Holv Citv: — 



74 BY AHAVA RIVER. 



"From the long captivity 
Turn we, still by foes oppressed. 
Through the fronded palms, I see 
The veiled splendors of the west, 
And I lay me down to rest 

By Ahava River. 

II. 

"But Jerusalem is far, — 
City that I long to see ; 
And the courts of Zion are 
Silent oracles to me. 
Shines the evening's silver star 

On Ahava River. 

in. 

"Lies before a hostile way. 
Through what dangers must I go ! 
But my hope of help I stay 
On One stronger than the foe. 
Let me pray. The wind breathes low 

On Ahava River. 

IV. 

" Peace is on these shadowed hills ; 
Solemn peace is in the trees ; 
And God's peace my spirit fills 
Like the silence of the seas. 
Cools the burning air the breeze 

Of Ahava River. 

v. 

"On the morrow is the fast, 
Solemn i';isl we p;mse to hold; 
On the Lord our burden casl 



BY AHAVA RIVER. 75 

As in mighty days of old. 

>f gi 
On Ahava River. 



Mirrored is the moon of gold 



VI. 

" Prayer that God will guide our feet 
On the morrow shall arise. 
Dreams of Hebron's clusters sweet, 
Dreams of Carmel's rosy skies, 
All the night shall bless our eyes 

By Ahava River. 

VII. 

" Dreams of fair Jerusalem, 
Dreams of viol and of flute, 
Bells upon the ephod's hem, 
Dulcimer, and airy lute 
Bless our ears, while all is mute 

By Ahava River. 

VIII. 

"God will keep and God will guard; 
His salvation we shall see. 
He shall lift his flaming sword, 
And the enemy shall flee. 
He will sure entreated be 

By Ahava River. 

IX. 

" After solemn fast and prayer, 
He will answer all our need ; 
Stronger his protecting care 
Than are Persian shield or steed. 
He our exiled feet will lead 

From Ahava River 



76 



BY AHAVA RIVER. 



X. 

"When Jerusalem appears, 
When I see its rising wall, 
Then mine eye will melt with tears, 
Then on bending knees I '11 fall, 
And the solemn fast recall 

By Ahava River." 








"•fyrftyQ 



Their mounds Bhall have our blessing of protection, 

While blooming year- return.'* 



MEMORIAL DAY. 



MEMORIAL DAY. 

I stand upon the summer hills and listen 

To voices murmurous, low ; 
Beneath the slopes the havened waters glisten, 

In sunset light aglow. 

So light and airy now the sunbeam tarries, 

That fancy almost sees 
The zephyr's wings, half -folded, like a fairy's, 

In half-illumined trees. 

A gentle spirit charms the restful hours ; 

Dews gem the pendent fern ; 
Wave low the censers of eternal flowers, 

And lilied airs return. 

But some that life's sweet habitudes did follow 

In golden Junes of yore, 
When summer comes, and brings the purple swallow, 

Will come to us no more. 

They fell beneath the tattered banners, streaming 

On battle's clouded breath, 
Where heroes saw, in serried columns gleaming, 

The lurid fires of death. 

They come no more when bugles deep are blowing 

On Freedom's natal days ; 
They hear no more, in sweet, suave numbers flowing, 

The patriot hero's praise. 



80 MEMORIAL DAY. 

The birds sing sweetly o'er their mounds, while Sorrow 

Sees but a flower-crowned tomb ; 
As though death had some luminous to-morrow 

Of beauty and of bloom. 

As though each life, a sacrifice to duty, 

Had vanished into light, 
And risen again in other spheres of beauty, 

Beyond the shades of night. 

But martyrdom has long its summer roses 

In memory's gardens fair, 
And lilies white, where fragrance long reposes, 

In sun-illumined air. 

Their mounds shall have our blessing of protection, 

While blooming years return, 
While summer airs give flowers a resurrection, 

And gem the moss and fern. 

Graves of our foes that pendent spring ferns cover, 

Brave hearts to mind that call ; 
Let Charity's kind memories round them hover, 

And there her roses fall. 

Foes in the wrong that faced the purple terror, 

We sinned with them and Jell ; 
In lapses long each shared the common error, 

Each faced the breath of hell. 

The strife is past, its bugle-calls, its marches: 

The peans of victory cense: 
.bums is closed ; and o'er its silent arches 

Stands the white angel Peace. 



filSEN. 



81 



mi,. 



mt. 







RISEN. 

{Written for Buggies Street Church, Boston, for Sunday, March 25, 1883.) 

[EASTER.] 

Risen, Christ is risen ! 

Hear the angel say ; 
Never word so glorious, 

Burst upon the day ! 
6 



82 PdSEN. 

Risen, Christ is risen! 

Hear the church repeat, 
As her bannered armies 

Follow Jesus' feet. 

Chorus. 

Risen, Christ is risen ! 

Hail the morning bright, 
Children of the promise, 

Children of the light. 



Risen, Christ is risen, 

Let our anthems say ; 
For our sake the Saviour 

Rose this wondrous day. 
Ours the hopes eternal 

Of his empty tomb ; 
Ours regained the Eden 

Of immortal bloom. 



Tenants for a moment 

Of abodes of clay, 
Heirs of habitations 

That shall ne'er decay, 
J n his resurrection 

Life is but a breath, 
We his feel shall follow 

Through the gates of death. 

Shines the wondrous morning 

( In I he ages long ! 
Hail it, halls of /ion, 

Glorious now with song! 



RISEN. 



88 



Perish, mortal bodies; 

Vanish, empty breath. 
Hail him, — Jesus! Jesus! 

Conqueror of death ! 




84 



THE CELESTIAL PILOT. 




THE CELESTIAL PILOT. 



A REMEMBRANCE OF LIVERPOOL. 



The sunset light on Birkenhead 

Shines bright, above the shading seas ; 

And flame like oriels, gold and red, 
The western windows of the trees : 

A calm is in the damask air, 

And slow ships pass, with pennants fair. 



ii. 

Alone, 1 walk along the quays, 

Where thousands walk each day alone, — 
Sad highways by the peopled sens, 

Where travellers meet and part, unknown. 
For here, beneath this gray sea-wall, 
Each day an hundred anchors fall. 



THE CELESTIAL PILOT. 85 



III. 

In yonder mists, the cliffs beside, 
I see the impatient ships afar, 

That wait the Mersey's rising tide 
To lift them o'er the harbor bar, 

And here, beside Victoria's Tower, 

I watch for them an idle hour. 



IV. 

I watch the ships that wait to go ; 

I watch the ships that wait to come ; 
And hear the deep tides pulsing slow 

Against the sea-walls cold and dumb. 
The eve is calm, the salt air cool, 
And fades the light from Liverpool. 



v. 

The havened ships around me rise : 
I know that they were made to sail 

On other seas, 'neath other skies, 
To breast the billows and the gale ; 

And yet they lie with folded sails, 

As though there were no seas or gales. 



VI. 

Each ship declares the builder's plan, 
The purpose of a mind unseen. 

Beyond the horizons I can scan, 
The airy mists of shade and sheen, 

Their ribs of oak were made to go, 

Their deftly fashioned sails to blow. 



86 THE CELESTIAL PILOT. 



VII. 

'T is so with thee, Soul of mine : 
'T is thus 't is given thee to know, 

That past earth's low horizon line 
Thou too art formed at last to go ; 

And there within thyself may'st find 

The purpose of a higher Mind ! 

VIII. 

They were not given thee for nought, — 
Fair Hope to leave the havened shores, 

And ripe Experience like a chart, 

And Faith that highest Heaven explores 

There is another shore for thee, — 

It lies bevond the silent sea. 



IX. 

ports beyond the port of time, 
fair abodes of glowing spheres, 

deeps profound, heights sublime, 
morns of holy atmospheres, 

orbs remote of glorious light 

That here but faintlv meet my sight! — 



x. 

Towards you my bark of life is turned, 
The morning light is on the prow. 

Pair shores awail thee, undiscerned, 
Ports thai no dreams discover now; 

And. in horizons near or far, 

There shines for thee the polar star. 



THE CELESTIAL PILOT. 87 



XI. 



The tide is rising : from the quays 
The ships go out, one after one, 

To breast the waves of rising seas, 
And idly drift in calms of sun. 

The tide is rising : lo, afar 

The white sails cross the harbor bar! 



XII. 

Now fast they come towards Birkenhead ; 

Their free wings beat the breezes cool, 
And drop their flags of commerce red 

Before the docks of Liverpool: 
And lo, like God's own lamp afar, 
Shines on the sea the polar star ! 



XIII. 

The tide is rising: I shall go 

Some day beyond the refluent sea. 

The mornings on the hills shall glow 
In far horizons, lost to me ; 

And all my powers of soul will share 

A broader sea, a brighter air. 



XIV. 

The tide is rising : let me gain 

A freightage for the ports sublime, 

That lift their splendors o'er the main 
Beyond the stormy shores of time. 

The eve is calm, the sea is full, 

Fast come the ships to Liverpool. 



88 THE CELESTIAL PILOT. 



XV. 

Fast come the ships : the polar star 
Has led their varying courses right, 

From each pacific port afar 

To England's port of peace, to-night ; 

And here their sails fall peacefully. 

In this calm city of the sea. 

XVI. 

Polar Star, be thou my guide 
Where'er my duty bids me go; 

There is no sea nor ocean tide 

Where thy fair lamp shall cease to glow ; 

And thou wilt rightly lead my bark 

O'er seas mysterious and dark. 



NOON OR NIGHT. 89 



" 










NOON OR XTGHT. 

[ NEW YEAR'S. ] 

I look upon the clock, — 'tis noon; 

The hour of day I know full well : 
It may be noon of life with me, — 

It may be, but I cannot tell. 
I cannot see the hand divine 
That marks of life's short day the time. 

I would not set the hand of fate 
Back on its dial : I draw near 

The thousand suns whose golden gates 
Before my Saviour's throne appeal'. 

That world I would not dare to claim 

Except by faith in Jesus' name. 

No night is there. The worlds below 
May wheel in darkness and eclipse; 

But those celestial summits glow 
With glories whose apocalypse 



90 



NOON OR NIGHT. 

The loved disciple saw awhile 
On the JEgean's rocky isle. 

I read the page with dazzled eye: 
What John beheld I yet shall see ; 

The golden gates through years may lie, 
A day may bring them close to me. 

Or noon, or night, I cannot tell ; 

I journey on with Christ to dwell. 

To overcome ! to overcome ! 

At noon and night shall be my prayer ; 
For he that overcomes at last 

Shall all the prophet's vision share, 
If noon, the way is long ; if night, 
Fair life is near the gates of light. 



s 



,-'-. 






^^sfeS 







FIRST CHRISTMAS IN NEW ENGLAND. 91 

THE FIRST CHRISTMAS IN NEW ENGLAND. 
THAT GRAY, COLD CHRISTMAS DAY, DECEMBER 25, 1620. 



They thought they had come to their port that day. 

But not yet was their journey done ; 
And they drifted away from Provincetown Bay 

In the tireless light of the sun. 
With rain and sleet were the tall masts iced, 

And gloomy and chill was the air ; 
But they looked from the crystal sails to Christ, 
And they came to a harbor fair. 

The white hills silent lay, — 
For there were no ancient bells to ring, 
No priests to chant, no choirs to sing, 
No chapel of baron, or lord or king, 
That gray, cold winter day. 

li. 

The snow came down on the vacant seas, 

And white on the lone rocks lay ; 
But rang the axe 'mong the evergreen trees, 

And followed the Sabbath day. 
Then rose the sun in a crimson haze, 

And the workmen said at dawn : 
" Shall our axes swing on this day of days, 
When the Lord of Life was born ? " 
The white hills silent lay, — 
For there were no ancient bells to ring, 
No priests to chant, no choirs to sing, 
No chapel of baron, or lord or king, 
That gray, cold Christmas Day. 



92 



FIRST CHRISTMAS IN NEW ENGLAND. 




III. 

"The old towns' bells we seem to hear: 

They are ringing sweet on the Dee; 
They are ringing sweet on the Harlem Meer, 

And sweet on the Zuyder Zee. 
The pines are frosted with snow and sleet. 

Shall we <>ur axes wield, 
When the chimes at Lincoln are ringing sweet, 
And the bells of Austerfield?" 

The air was cold and gray, — 
Ami there were no ancient bells to ring, 
NO priests to chant, no choirs to sing, 
No chapel of baron, or lord or king, 
That erav, cold ( Ihristmas Day. 



FIRST CHRISTMAS IN NEW ENGLAND. 93 

IV. 

Then the master said : " Your axes wield, 

Remember ye Malabarre Bay ; 
And the covenant there with the Lord ye sealed ; 

Let your axes ring to-day. 
You may talk of the old towns' bells to-night, 

When your work for the Lord is clone, 
And your boats return, and the shallop's light 
Shall follow the light of the sun. 

The sky is cold and gray, — 
And here are no ancient bells to ring, 
No priests to chant, no choirs to sing, 
No chapel of baron, or lord or king, 
This gray, cold Christmas Day. 

y. 

" If Christ was born on Christmas Day, 

And the day by Him is blest; 
Then low at His feet the evergreens lay, 

And cradle His church in the West. 
Immanuel waits at the temple gates 

Of the nation to-day ye found, 
And the Lord delights in no formal rites ; 
To-day let your axes sound!" 

The sky was cold and gray, — 
And there were no ancient bells to ring, 
No priests to chant, no choirs to sing, 
No chapel of baron, or lord or king, 
That gray, cold Christinas Day. 

VI. 

Their axes rang through the evergreen trees, 

Like the bells on the Thames and Tay ; 
And they cheerily sung by the windy seas, 

And they thought of Malabarre Bay. 



94 



FIRST CHRISTMAS IN NEW ENGLAND. 



On the lonely heights of Burial Hill 

The old Precisioners sleep ; 
But did ever men with a nobler will, 
A holier Christmas keep 

When the sky was cold and gray, — 
And there were no ancient bells to ring, 
No priests to chant, no choirs to sing, 
No chapel of baron, or lord or king, 
That gray, cold Christmas Day ? 




THE ROSES OF RHODES. 



95 




THE EOSES OF RHODES. 

[RHODE ISLAND.] 

In the tides of the warm south wind it lay, 

And its grapes turned wine in the fires of noon, 

And its roses blossomed from May to May, 

And their fragrance lingered from June to June. 

There dwelt old heroes at Ilium famed, 
There, bards reclusive, of olden odes ; 

And so fair were the fields of roses, they named 
The bright sea garden the Isle of Rhodes. 

Fair temples graced each blossoming field, 
And columned halls in gems arrayed ; 

Night shaded the sea with her jewelled shield, 
And sweet the lyres of Orpheus played. 



The Helios spanned the sea: its flame 
Drew hither the ships of Pelion's pines, 

And twice a thousand statues of fame 
Stood mute in twice a thousand shrines. 



96 THE ROSES OF RHODES. 

And her mariners went, and her mariners came, 

And sang on the seas the olden odes, 
And at night they remembered the Helios' flame, 

And at morn the sweet fields of the roses of Rhodes. 

From the palm land's shades to the lands of pines, 
A Florentine crossed the Western sea ; 

He sought new lands and golden mines, 

And he sailed "neath the flag of the Fleur de Us. 

He saw at last, in the sunset's gold. 

A wonderful island so fair to view 
That it seemed like the Island of Roses old 

That his eyes in his wondering boyhood knew. 

'T was summer time, and the glad birds sung 

In the hush of noon in the solitudes ; 
From the oak's broad arms the green vines hung ; 

Sweet odors blew from the resinous woods. 



He rounded the shores of the summer sea, 

And he said as his feet the white sands pressed, 

And lie planted the flag of the Fleur de Ik: 

" I have come to the Island of Rhodes in the West. 

•• While the mariners go. and the mariners come, 
And sing <>n lone waters the olden odes 

Of the Grecian seas and the ports of Rome. 
The} ever will think of the roses of Rhodes." 

To the isle of th'' Wot he gave the name 
Of the isle he had loved in the Grecian sea ; 

And the Florentine went away ;is he came, 
'Neath the Bilver flag of the Fleur de lis. 



THE ROSES OF RHODES. 97 

fair Rhode Island, thy guest was true, 

He felt the spirit; of beauteous things ; 
Thy sea-wet roses were faint and few. 

But memory made them the gardens of kings. 

The Florentine corsair sailed once more, 

Out into the West o'er a rainy sea, 
In search of another wonderful shore 

For the crown of France and the Fleur de lis. 

But returned no more the Florentine brave 

To the courtly knights of fair Rochelle ; 
'Neath the lilies of France he found a grave, 

And not 'neath the roses he loved so well. 

But the lessons of beauty his fond heart bore 
From the gardens of God were never lost ; 

And the fairest name of the Eastern shore 
Bears the fairest isle of the Western coast. 



98 



THE BIRD WITH A BROKEN WING. 



THE BIRD WITH A BROKEN WING. 

I walked in the woodland meadows, 
Where sweet the thrushes sing ; 

And I found on a bed of mosses 
A bird with a broken wing. 





] healed the wound ; and cacli morning 
li sang its old sweel strain. 

Bui fche bird with a broken pinion 
Never soared as high again. 



THE BIRD WITH A BROKEN WING. 99 

I found a youth, life-broken 

By sin's seductive art ; 
And, touched with Christ-like pity, 

I took him to my heart. 
He lived with a noble purpose, 

And struggled not in vain. 
But the soul with a broken pinion 

Never soars as high again. 

But the bird with a broken pinion 

Kept another from the snare ; 
And the life that sin had stricken 

Raised another from despair. 
Each loss had its compensation ; 

There were healings for each pain; 
But a bird with a broken pinion 

Never soars as high again. 



100 



THE BEAUTIFUL VILLAGE OF YULE. 



THE BEAUTIFUL VILLAGE OF YULE. 




My spring-time of life has de- 
parted ; 

Its romance has ended at last: 
My dreamings were once of the 
future, 
But now they are all of the 
past. 
And memory oft in my trials 
Goes back to my pastimes at 
school, 
And pictures the children who 
loved me 
In the beautiful village of Yule. 



The schoolhouse still stands by 
the meadow, 
And green is the spot where 
I played, 
And flecked with the sun is the 
shadow 
Of the evergreen woods where 
I strayed. 
The thrush in the meadowy 
places 
Still sings in the evergreens 
cool ; 
But changed are the fun-loving 

Wf '^WWf^--'^ ' faces 

. '' '■'■:- Of the children who met me 






at Yule 



THE BEAUTIFUL VILLAGE OF YULE. 101 

I remember the day, when, a teacher, 

I met those dear faces anew ; 
The warm-hearted greetings that told me 

The friendships of childhood are true. 
I remember the winters I struggled, 

When careworn and sick, in my school : 
I remember the children who loved me 

In the beautiful village of Yule. 

So true, in the days of my sadness, 

Did the hearts of my trusted ones prove, 
My sorrow grew light in the gladness 

Of having so many to love. 
I gave my own heart to my scholars, 

And banished severity's rule ; 
And happiness dwelt in my schoolroom, 

In the beautiful village of Yule. 

I taught them the goodness of loving 

The beauty of nature and art ; 
They taught me the goodness of loving 

The beauty that lies in the heart. 
And I prize more than lessons of knowledge 

The lessons I learned in my school, — 
The warm hearts that met me at morning, 

And left me at evening, in Yule. 

I remember the hour that we parted: 

I told them, while moistened my eye, 
That the bell of the schoolroom of glory 

Would ring for us each in the sky. 
Their faces were turned to the sunset, 

As thev stood 'ncath the everi>'reeus cool : 
I shall see them no more as I saw them. 

In the beautiful village of Yule. 



102 THE BEAUTIFUL VILLAGE OF YULE. 

The bells of the schoolroom of glory 

Their summons have rung in the sky. 
The moss and the fern of the valley 

On some of the old pupils lie : 
Some have gone from the wearisome studies 

Of earth to the happier school : 
Some faces are bright with the angels', 

Who stood in the sunset at Yule. 

I love the instructions of knowledge, 

The teachings of nature and art. 
But more than all others the lessons 

That come from an innocent heart. 
And still to be patient and loving 

And trustful T hold as a rule. 
For so I was taught by the children 

Of the beautiful village of Yule. 

My spring-time of life has departed ; 

Its romance has ended at last : 
My dreamings were once of the future, 

But now they are all of the past. 
Methinks when I stand in life's sunset, 

As I stood when we parted at school, 
I shall see the bright faces of scholars 

I loved in the village of Yule. 



LINCOLN'S LAST DREAM. 103 



LINCOLN'S LAST DREAM. 

i. 

April flowers were in the hollows ; in the air were April bells, 
And the wings of purple swallows rested on the battle shells. 
From the war's long scene of horror now the nation found 

release ; 
All the clay the old Avar bugles blew the blessed notes of peace. 
'Thwart the twilight's damask curtains 

Fell the night upon the land. 
Like God's smile of benediction 
Shadowed faintly by his hand. 
In the twilight, in the dusklight, in the starlight, everywhere. 
Banners waved like gardened flowers in the palpitating air. 

ii. 
In Art's temple there were greetings, gentle hurryings of feet, 
And triumphant strains of music rose amid the numbers sweet. 
Soldiers gathered, heroes gathered, women beautiful wore there : 
Will lie come, the land's Beloved, there to rest an hour from 
care ? 

Will he come who for the people 

Long the cross of pain has borne, — 
Prayed in silence, wept in silence. 
Held the hand of God alone ? 
Will he share the hour of triumph, now his mighty work is 

done ? 
Here receive the people's plaudits, now the victory is won? 



104 LINCOLN'S LAST DREAM. 

III. 

O'er thy dimpled waves, Potomac, softly now the moonbeams 

creep ; 
O'er far Arlington's green meadows, where the brave forever sleep. 
'T is Good Friday ; bells are tolling, bells of chapels beat the air 
( )n thy quiet shores, Potomac ; Arlington, serene and fair. 
And he comes, the nation's hero, 

From the White House, worn with care ; 
Hears the name of " Lincoln ! " ringing 
In the thronged streets, everywhere ; 
Hears the bells, — what memories bringing to his long-uplifted 

heart ! 
Hears the plaudits of the people as he gains the Hall of Art. 

IV. 

Throbs the air with thrilling music, gayly onward sweeps the 

play : 
But he little heeds tbe laughter, for his thoughts are far away ;. 
And he whispers faintly, sadly, " Oft a blessed Form I see, 
Walking calmly 'mid the people on the shores of Galilee; 
Oft I've wished His steps to follow. 

Gently listen, wife of mine ! 
When the cares of State are over, 
I will go to Palestine, 
And the |>;itlis the Blessed followed I will walk from sea to sea, 
Follow Mini who healed the people on the shores of Galilee." 

v. 

Hung the flag triumphant o'er lnm; and Ids eyes with tears were 

dim. 
Though a thousand eyes before him lifted oft their smiles to 1dm. 
Forms of statesmen, forms of heroes, women beautiful were there, 
J>nt it was another vision thai had calmed Ids brow of care: 



LINCOLN S LAST DREAM, 105 

Tabor glowed in light before him, 

Carmel in the evening sun ; 
Faith's strong armies grandly marching 
Through the vale of Esdralon ; 
Bethany's palm-shaded gardens, where the Lord the sisters met, 
And the Pascal moon arising o'er the brow of Olivet. 

VI. 

Now the breath of light applauses rose the templed arches through. 
Stirred the folds of silken banners, mingled red and white and 

blue ; 
But the Dreamer seemed to heed not: rose the past his eye 

before, — 
Armies guarding the Potomac, flashing through the Shenandoah ; 
Gathering armies, darkening navies, 

Heroes marching forth to die ; 
Chickamauga, Chattanooga, 
And the Battle of the Sky ; 
Silent prayers to free the bondmen in the ordeal of fire, 
And God's angel's sword uplifted to fulfil his heart's desire. 

VII. 

Thought he of the streets of Richmond on the late triumphant 

day 
When the swords of vanquished leaders at his feet surrendered 

lay ; 
When, amid the sweet bells ringing, all the sable multitudes 
Shouted forth the name of "Lincoln!" like a rushing of the 
floods ; 

Thought of all his heart had suffered : 

All his struggles and renown ; 
Dreaming not that just above him 
Lifted was the martyr's crown ; 
Seeing not the dark form stealing through the music-haunted air; 
Knowing not that 'mid die triumph the betrayer's feet were there. 



106 



LINCOLN'S LAST DREAM. 



VIII. 

April morning ; flags are blowing ; 'thwart each flag a sable bar. 
Dead, the leader of the people; dead, the world's great commoner 
Bells on the Potomac tolling ; tolling by the Sangamon ; 
Tolling from the broad Atlantic to the Ocean of the Sun. 

Friend and foe clasp hands in silence, 
Listen to the low prayers said, 

Hear the people's benedictions, 
Hear the nations praise the dead. 
Lovely land of Palestina! he thy shores will never see, 
But, his dream fulfilled, he follows Him who walked in Galilee. 




TIME MAKES CHANGES PLEASANTLY. 



107 







TIME MAKES CHANGES PLEASANTLY. 

Does trouble rise, and life appear 

A prison with no open gate, 
And fettered circumstance and fear 

Attend thy ways ? — In silence wait 
And look to God : it well will be, 
For time makes changes pleasantly. 



Let no corroding passions rise 

To vent hot words to add to pain ; 

Warm lies the light in Southern skies 
To chase the clouds of winter rain ; 

And heart-content awaits for thee, 

For time makes changes pleasantly. 

For time the man of peace befriends, 
Removes in silence what appears 

Life's boundary wall, and far extends 
The boundaries of future years. 

Misfortune tides an influent sea, 

And time makes changes pleasantly. 



108 THE OLD FLOWER BEDS 'NEATH THE WINDOWS. 



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> THE OLD FLOWER BEDS 'NEATH 
THE WINDOWS. 



[EASTER.] 



To the old home farm returning 

'Mid the sunset's lights and glooms, 
I kiss the faces that knew me, 

And I turn to the vacant rooms. 
The scenes of my long-gone childhood 

The doors that I open recall, 
The blossoming windows of summer, 

The fruit-laden orchards of fall. 



The old flower beds 'neath the windows 
A re swc<d as in other years, 

As beauteous the jessamine lingers, 
As fragrant the swe< t-brier appears. 



THE OLD FLOWER BEDS "NEATH THE WINDOWS. 109 

The light purple wings of the swallows 

Are gemmed in the sunset as then, 
And still seeks the fairy-like hollows 

Of the yellow gourd-houses, the wren. 

in. 

I go to a tenantless chamber; 

The moon glimmers over the eaves, 
And a light, as in years long vanished, 

In the latticed window leaves. 
And, in fancy, night's viewless angel 

Goes by with a muffled tread, 
As I gaze with an answerless longing 

On the little one's empty bed. 

IV. 

There were little blue eyes that forever 

Have vanished from my sight ; 
A heart of affection that never 

Will throb on my own with delight. 
I shall never again kneel beside him, 

I shall pray in the silence instead. 
Fall gently, dews, in the graveyard, 

Where the green myrtles cover his bed. 

v. 

My hand-in-hand companion, 

That the years will never restore, 
The little lost hand 'neath the mosses 

Will lock in my fingers no more ! 
As the moonlight all white is the pillow 

Where rested a curl-circled head : 
And the April winds sigh through the willow 

That waves o'er the little one's bed. 



110 THE OLD FLOWER BEDS 'NEATH THE WINDOWS. 



VI. 

dear little lips that no longer 
In love will be lifted to mine ! 

dear little arms that grew stronger, 
My neck in their ring to entwine ! 

Each place, gentle heart, where I loved thee, 

Is sprinkled with tears I have shed, 
And the glow of lost years of affection 

Comes back as I gaze on thy bed. 

VII. 

1 think of the gardens immortal, 
And I seem in a vision to see 

A little hand open the portal 

That life has long hidden from me. 
Still they bloom, the old flowers 'neath the window, 

And I say, " Can my darling be dead ? " 
Or do I behold but the pillow 

Where a bright angel rested, and fled ? 



WHEN MY CHILDREN WERE ABOUT ME. Ill 



WHEN MY CHILDREN WERE ABOUT ME. 

that I were as in months past, as in the days when God preserved me ; 

When His candle shined upon my head, and when by His light I walked through 
darkness ; 

As I was in the days of my youth, when the secret of God was upon my 
tabernacle. 

When the Almighty was yet with me, when my children were about me. — Job 
xxix. 2-5. 

I. 

Green springs return, the swallows come, 

And croon the golden bees ; 
Suave summers bring their fluting winds 

To blossom-clouded trees. 
Life's spring and summer have their prime ; 

And, looking back, with tears 
I ask, What is the happiest time 

Of life's eventful years ? 

ii. 

The happiest time? — I turn the page, 

I read the Hebrew seer, 
Who saw, in grief, the Golden Age 

That Memory holds most dear ; 
Not when high Youth expectant peers 

To Hope's cerulean skies, 
Nor in the calm of withered years 

When disenchantment sighs. 



112 WHEX MY CHILDREN WERE ABOUT ME. 

III. 

'T was in that blossom-haunted time 

"Xeath life's meridian beam. 
When homely virtues have their prime 

And fill the heart's fond dream. 
Then rose the golden days, again 

As bright to reappear : 
w * My children were about me then, 

And God Himself was near." 

IV. 

Where sweet Affection makes her tent 

There shine the stars serene : 
The lilied airs have sweeter scent, 

The earth a deeper green. 
By frigid sea or sunlit palms 

No memory is so dear 
As children clasped in loving arms, 

And God's own presence near. 



The merchant gleans the earth, and stores 

The fruits the nations reap. 
From spicy port and icy shores, 

And isle-bejewelled deep. 
His brighl bazaars uplift their wings 

By either sail-swept sea: 
'Tis more than wealth to be beloved 

By children at the knee. 

VI. 

Tin- poet seeks fame's storied land 

To feel romance's sway : 
And. tranced beneath Night's jewelled hand, 

He hears the low lutes play. 




Twas in that blossom-haunted time 
'Neath life's meridian beam." 



WHEN MY CHILDREN WERE ABOUT ME. 115 

He carves the burning Indian shore, 

The dark iEgean Sea : 
'T is more than fame to be beloved 

By children at the knee. 

VII. 

The traveller treads the cities old 

'Mid monuments of art, 
But finds, 'neath cupolas of gold, 

No market of the heart. 
Love is not bought, love is not sold, 

By any purpling sea : 
'T is home-content to be beloved 

By children at the knee. 

VIII. 

And so I answer, as I dream 

Of life's most happy time : 
Full oft it comes, like sweet June days, 

In virtuous manhood's prime. 
As this, in after days shall be 

No memory so dear, 
With loving children at the knee, 

And God's own presence near. 



116 



THE PATRIOT'S REMEMBRANCES. 




THE PATRIOT'S REMEMBRANCES. 

Sweet spring is in the air, good wife, 

The bluer sky appears, 
The robin sings the welcome note 

He sung in other years. 
Twelve times the spring lias oped the rills, 

Twelve times lias autumn sighed, 
Since hung the war clouds o'er the hills, 

The year that Lincoln died. 



The March wind early left the zone 

For distant northern seas, 
And wandering airs of gentle tone 

( 'nine to the door-yard trees ; 
And sadness in the dewy hours 

Her reign extended wide 
When spring retouched the hills with flowers, 

The year thai Lincoln died. 



THE PATRIOT'S REMEMBRANCES. 117 

We used to sit and talk of him, 

Our long, long absent son; 
We 'd two to love us then, good wife, 

But now we have but one. 
The springs return, the autumns burn 

His grave unknown beside; 
They laid him 'neath the moss and fern, 

The year that Lincoln died. 

One day I was among the flocks 

That roamed the April dells, 
When floating from the city came 

The sound of many bells. 
The towns around caught up the sound ; 

I climbed the mountain side, 
And saw the spires with banners crowned, 

The year that Lincoln died. 

I knew what meant that sweet accord, 

That jubilee of bells, 
And sang an anthem to the Lord 

Amid the pleasant dells. 
But when I thought of those so young 

That slept the James beside, 
In undertones of joy I sung, 

The year that Lincoln died. 

And when the tidings came, good wife, 

Our soldier boy was dead, 
I bowed my trembling knee in prayer, 

You bowed your whitened head. 
The house was still, the woods were calm, 

Fair was the eventide ; 
I sang alone the evening psalm, 

The year that Lincoln died. 



118 THE PATRIOT'S REMEMBRANCES. 

I hung his picture "neath the shelf; 

It still is hanging there ; 
I laid his ring where you yourself 

Had put a curl of hair. 
Then to the spot where willows wave 

With hapless steps we hied. 
And " Charley's " called an empty grave. 

The year that Lincoln died. 

The years will come, the years will go, 

But never at our door 
The fair-haired hoy we used to meet 

Will smile upon us more. 
But memory long will hear the fall 

Of steps at eventide, 
And every blooming year recall 

The year that Lincoln died. 

One day I was among the flocks 

That roamed the April dells. 
When at the noonday hour I heard 

A tolling of the bells. 
With heavy heart and footsteps slow 

I climbed the mountain side, 
And saw the blue flags hanging low. 

The year that Lincoln died. 

Thai eve I stopped to rest awhile 

Beside the meadow bars, 
Where, years before, poor Charley watche< 

The cornel 'mong the stars. 
Then from his night-encumbered way 

A i raveller stepped aside ; 
And told the news thai fateful day. 

The year thai Lincoln died. 



THE PATRIOT'S REMEMBRANCES. 119 

•* The bells that rung when Richmond fell 

Are tolling all," he said ; 
" Hark ! hear ye not your village bell ': 

It tolls for Lincoln dead. . 
He who his birthright gave the slave 

And right to right allied. 
Has won the martyr's name and grave.'" 

I wept when Lincoln died. 

Peace smiles upon the hills and dells. 

Peace smiles upon the seas ; 
And drop the notes of happy bells 

Upon the fruited trees. 
The broad Missouri stretches far 

Her commerce-gathering arms, 
And multiply on Arkansas 

The grain-encumbered farms. 

Iu dreams I stand beside the tide : 

Where those old heroes fell. 
Above the valleys, long and wide, 

Sweet rings the Sabbath bell. 
I hear no more the bugle blow. 

As on that fateful day : 
I hear the ring-dove fluting low. 

Where shaded waters stray. 

On Mission Ridge the sunlight streams 

Above the fields of fall. 
And Chattanooga calmly dreams 

Beneath her mountain wall. 
Old Lookout Mountain towers on high, 

As in heroic days. 
When 'neath the battle in the sky 

Was seen its summit's blaze. 



120 



THE PATRIOT'S REMEMBRANCES. 



But many a year, ah ! many a year, 

The birds will cross the seas, 
And blossoms fall in gentle showers 

Beneath the door-yard trees ; 
And still will tender mothers weep 

The soldiers' graves beside, 
And fresh in memory ever keep 

The year that Lincoln died. 

Where many sow the seed in tears 

Shall many reap in joy ; 
And harvesters in golden years 

Shall ever bless our boy. 
With happy homes for other eyes 

Expands the future wide ; 
And God will bless our sacrifice, 

The year that Lincoln died. 



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MEETING AND PARTING. 121 



MEETING AND PARTING. 

Written on the Terrace, Quebec. 
[NEW YEAR'S.] 

Alone, beside these peaceful guns 
I walk, — the eve is calm and fair. 

Below, the broad St. Lawrence runs ; 
Above, the castle shines in air ; 

And o'er the breathless sea and land 

Night stretches forth her jewelled hand. 

Amid the crowds that hurry past — 
Bright faces like a sunlit tide — 

Some eyes the gifts of friendship cast 
Upon me, as I walk aside, — 

Kind, wordless welcomes understood, 

The Spirit's touch of brotherhood. 

Below, the sea; above, the sky, 
Smile each to each, a vision fair : 

So like Faith's zones of light on high, 
A sphere seraphic seems the air, 

And loving thoughts there seem to meet, 

And come and go with golden feet. 

Below me lies the old French town, 

With narrow streets and churches quaint. 

And tiled roofs and gables brown, 

And signs with names of many a saint. 

And there in all I see appears 

The heart of twice an hundred years. 



122 



MEETING AND PARTING. 



Beyond, by inky steamers mailed. 

Point Levi's painted roofs arise. 
Where emigration long has hailed 

The empires of the western skies 
And lightly wave the red flags there, 
Like roses of the damask air. 




■ F Wvi - 



Peace o'er yon garden spreads her palm, 
Where heroes foughl in other days ; 

And Honor speaks of brave Montcalm 
On Wolfe's immortal shaft of praise. 

Wli;il Lessons thai I \\*(>(\ to learn 

In Bchoolboy days 1<> me return ! 



MEETING AND PARTING. 123 

Fair terrace of the Western Rhine, 

I leave thee with unwilling feet; 
I long shall see thy castle shine 

As bright as now, in memories sweet, 
And cheerful thank the kindly eyes 
That lent to me their sympathies. 

Go, friendly hearts, that met by chance 

A stranger for a little while ; 
Friendship itself is but a glance, 

And love is but a passing smile. 
I am a pilgrim,- — all I meet 
Are glancing eyes and hurrying feet. 

Farewell ; in dreams I see again 

The northern river of the vine, 
While crowns the sun with golden grain 

The hillsides of the greater Rhine. 
And here shall grow as years increase 
The empires of the Rhine of Peace. 



124 IMMORTA LITY. 



IMMORTALITY. 

Written after listening to the Organ Tempest of Lucerne. 

[ EASTER. ] 

We came to fair Lucerne at even, — 

How beauteous was the scene ! 
The snowy Alps, like walls of heaven, 

Rose o'er the Alps of green ; 
The damask sky a roseate light 

Flashed on the Lake, and low 
Above Mt. Pilate's shadowy height 

Night bent her silver bow. 

We turned towards the faded fane, 

How many centuries old ! 
And entered as the organ's strain 

Along the arches rolled ; 
Such as when guardian spirits bear 

A soul to realms of light, 
And melts in the immortal air 

The anthem of their flight : 
Then followed strains so sweet, 

So sadly sweet and low. 
Thai they seemed like memory's music, 

And the chords of long ago. 



IMMORTALITY. 125 

A light wind seemed to rise ; 

A deep gust followed soon, 
As when a dark cloud flies 

Across the sun, at noon. 
It filled the aisles, — each drew 

His garments round his form ; 
We could not feel the wind that blew, 

But only hear the storm. 
Then we cast a curious eye 

Towards the window's lights, 
And saw the Lake serenely lie 

Beneath the crystal heights. 
Fair rose the Alps of white 

Above the Alps of green ; 
The slopes lay bright in the sun of night, 

And the peaks in the sun unseen. 

A deep sound shook the air, 
As when the tempest breaks 

Upon the peaks, while sunshine fair 
Is dreaming in the lakes. 

Then like a fateful wing- 
There rose a wind so drear, 

Its troubled spirit seemed to bring 
The shades of darkness near. 

We looked towards the windows old : 
Calm was the eve of June ; 

On the summits shone the twilight's gold, 
And on Pilate shone the moon. 



A sharp note's lightning flash 
Upturned the startled face; 

When a mighty thunder-crash 
With horror filled the place ! 



126 IMMOR TA LI TY. 

From arch to arch the peal 

Was echoed loud and long- 
Then o'er the pathway seemed to steal 

Another seraph's song ; 
And 'mid the thunder's crash 

And the song's enraptured flow, 
We still could hear, with charmed ear, 

The organ playing low. 

As passed the thunder-peal, 

Came raindrops, falling near, 
A rain one could not feel, 

A rain that smote the ear. 
And we turned to look again 

Towards the mountain wall, 
When a deep tone shook the fane, 

Like the avalanche's fall. 
Loud piped the wind, fast poured the rain, 

The very earth seemed riven, 
And wildly flashed, and yet again, 

The smiting fires of heaven. 

And cheeks that wore the light of smiles 

When slowly rose the gale, 
Like pulseless statues lined the aisles 

And, as forms of marble, pale. 
The organ's undertones 

SI ill sounded sweet and low, 
Ami the calm of a, more than mortal trust 

Willi the rhythms seemed to flow. 

The Master's mirrored fnee 

\V;is lilted from the keys, 
As it' more holy was the place 

A- Ik: touched the notes of peace. 



IMMORTALITY. 



12" 




Then the sympathetic reeds 

The sweet enchantment wrought, 
As the senses met the needs 

And the touch of human thought. 
The organ whispered sweet, 

The organ whispered low, 
" Fear not, God's love is with thee, 

Though tempests round thee blow ! " 
And the soul's grand power 't was ours to trace, 

And its deathless hopes discern, 
As we gazed that night on the living face 

Of the Organ of Lucerne. 



Then from the church it passed, 
That strange and ghostly storm, 

And a parting beam the twilight cast 
Through the windows, bright and warm. 



128 IMMORTALITY. 

The music grew more clear, 

Our gladdened pulses swaying, 
When Alpine horns we seemed to hear 

On all the hillsides playing. 

We left the church: how fair 

Stole on the eve of June ! 
Cool Righi in the dusky air. 

The low-descending moon! 
No breath the lake cerulean stirred ; 

Xo cloud could eye discern ; 
The Alps were silent : we had heard 

The Organ of Lucerne. 

Soon passed the night : the high peaks shone 

A wall of glass and fire, 
And Morning, from her summer zone, 

Illumined tower and spire ; 
I walked beside the lake again, 

Along the Alpine meadows ; 
Then sought the old melodious fane 

Beneath the Righi's shadows. 
The organ, spanned by arches quaint. 

Rose silent, cold, and bare, 
Like the pulseless tomb of a vanished saint : — 

The Master was not there ! 
But the soul's grand power 'twas mine to trace 

And its deathless hopes discern. 
As I gazed thai morn on the still, dead face 

Of the Organ of Lucerne. 



YE DID IT UNTO ME." 



129 













mdJw2u 




"YE DID IT UNTO ME." 



I know not when the lamps of God 

Should light the Christmas shrine ; 
The Volga's bells do not accord 

With those upon the Rhine ; 
But when the bells of either clime 

Ring out for charity, 
Their tongues melodious seem to chime : 

" Ye did it unto Me ! " 

That psalm that, 'mid December's snows, 

We sing with joy to-day. 
In Eastern chapels erst arose, 

In the bright month of May. 
It matters not. The deeds of old 

With those to-day agree ; 
The poor man shares the rich man's gold 

"Ye did it unto Me!" 
9 



130 « YE DID IT UNTO ME." 

The time, the date, is little worth 

if heart to heart accord, 
And but the suffering ones of earth 

Receive the gold of God. 
The semblance of the Lord is met 

In every Christmas-tree, 
And heard the words of Olivet : 

" Ye did it unto Me ! " 

In every ministry to woe, 

In every help to pain, 
The sandalled feet of Jesus go, 

As once they went to Nam ; 
Bread multiplied we may behold 

In every charity, 
As at Decapolis of old : 

" Ye did it unto Me ! " 

Chime on, ye bells ! In every clime 

The angels' strain uplift ; 
It is the spirit, not the time, 

That sanctifies the gift ! 
The Christ-child with the children comes 

To every Christmas-tree 
Or by the Rhine's or Neva's homes : 

"Ye did it unto Me!" 

Then light again the Yule log's fires, 
And bring your Christmas dowers, 

Although the white Muscovian spires 
May not accord with ours ; 

And He will walk again with men, 
Who walked in Galilee; 

And His sweet voice will say again : 
" Ye did it unto Me!" 



THE FISHERMAN OF FAROE. 



131 




THE FISHERMAN OF FAROE. 

When life was young, my white sail hung 

O'er ocean's crystal floor ; 
In the fiords alee was the dreaming sea, 

And the deep sea waves before. 
The Faroe fishermen used to call 
From the pier's extremest post : 
" Strike out, my boy, from the ocean wall ; 
There 's danger near the coast. 
Beware of the drifting dunes 
In the nights of the watery moons, 

Beware of the Maelstrom's tide 
When the western wind blows free, 
Of the rocks of the Skagerrack, 
Of the shoals of the Cattegat; 
Strike out for the open sea, 
Strike out for the open sea!" 



" pilot ! pilot ! every rock 
You know in the ocean wall." 

"No, no, my boy, I only know 
Where there are no rocks at all. 



132 THE FISHERMAN OF FAROE. 

Where there are no rocks at all, my boy, 

And there no ship is lost. 
Strike out, strike out for the open sea; 
There 's danger near the coast. 
Beware, I say, of the dunes 
In the nights of the watery moons, 

Beware of the Maelstrom's tide 
When the western wind blows free, 
Of the rocks of the Skagerrack, 
Of the shoals of the Cattegat ; 
Strike out for the open sea, 
Strike out for the open sea ! " 

Low sunk the trees in the sun-laved seas, 

And the flash of peaking oars 
Grew faint and dim on the sheeny rim 

Of the harbor-dented shores. 
And far Faroe in the light lay low, 
Where rode like a dauntless host 
The white-plumed waves o'er the green sea graves 
Of the rock-imperilled coast. 

And I thought of the drifting dunes 
In the nights of the watery moons, 

And I thought of the Maelstrom's tide 
When the western wind blew free. 
Of the rocks of the Skagerrack, 
Of the shoals of the Cattegat, 
And I steered for the open sea, 
1 steered for the open sea. 

To far Faroe I sailed away, 

When bright the summer burned, 
And I told in the old Norse kirk one day 

The lesson my heart had Learned. 



THE FISHERMAN' OF FAROE. 135 

Then the grizzly landvogt said to me : 

" Of strength we may not boast ; 
But ever in life for you and me 
There 's danger near the coast. 
Then think of the drifting dunes 
In the nights of the watery moons, 

And think of the Maelstrom's tide 
When the western wind blows free, 
Of the rocks of the Skagerrack, 
Of the shoals of the Cattegat ; 
Strike out for the open sea, 
Strike out for the open sea ! " 

" landvogt, well thou knowest the ways 

Wherein my feet may fall." 
u Oh, no, my boy, I only know 

The ways that are safe to all, 
The ways that are safe to all, my boy, 

And there no soul is lost. 
Strike out in life for the open sea, 
There 's danger near the coast. 
Then think of the drifting dunes 
In the nights of the watery moons, 

And think of the Maelstrom's tide 
When the western wind blows free, 
Of the rocks of the Skagerrack, 
Of the shoals of the Cattegat ; 
Strike out for the open sea, 
Strike out for the open sea ! 

" False lights, false lights, are near the land. 

The reef the land wave hides, 
And the ship goes down in sight of the town 

That safe the deep sea rides. 



136 THE FISHERMAN OF FAROE. 

T is those who steer the old life near 

Temptation suffer most ; 
The way is plain to life's open main, 
There 's danger near the coast. 
Beware of the drifting dunes 
In the nights of the watery moons, 

Beware of the Maelstrom's tide 
When the western wind blows free, 
Of the rocks of the Skagerrack, 
Of the shoals of the Cattegat ; 
Strike out for the open sea, 
Strike out for the open sea ! " 

And so on life's sea I sailed away, 

Where free the waters flow, 
As I sailed from the old home port that day 

For the islands of far Faroe. 
And when I steer temptation near, 

The pilot, like a ghost, 
On the wave-rocked pier I seem to hear : 
" There 's danger near the coast. 
Beware of the drifting dunes 
In the nights of the watery moons, 

Beware of the Maelstrom's tide 
When the western wind blows free, 
Of the rocks of the Skagerrack, 
Oi' the shoals of the Cattegat; 
Strike out for the open sea, 
Strike out for the open sea ! " 



OLD CLASS-ROOM NUMBER FOUR. 137 



OLD CLASS-ROOM NUMBER FOUR. 
AX OLD FRIEND'S STORY DURING A WALK. 

The light is warm on Newton's hills 

With halls of learning crowned ; 
The sunset shadow, lengthening, hlls 

The niernory-haunted ground. 

bowery heights ! sun-lit peaks ! 
My eye to you once more 

Is turned, and, dim with feeling, seeks 
What once it sought with glowing cheeks, 
Old class-room Number Four. 

'T is autumn, and an amber haze, 

An over-sea of gold, 
Is bright as in the olden days, 

And has the charm of old. 
The birds are gone, the cricket sings 

Upon the grassy floor, 
And quickened thought its vision brings 
Of vanished youth and withered springs, 

And class-room Number Four. 

1 walk the upward path alone 
That once I walked with friends ; 

A pilgrim to the halls alone 
My halting step ascends. 



138 



OLD CLASS-ROOM NUMBER FOUR. 










1 see the pine-plumed hill-tops rise 

Around me as of yore ; 
Below, the weir, cloud-shadowed, lies; 
Above, the blue hikes of the skies; 

The silent halls, before. 



O shaded windows thai I see 
By pilgrim years endeared. 

Where oft I dreamed, and fair to me 
The future's lighi appeared ; 



OLD CLASS-ROOM NUMBER FOUR. 139 

Lawns, where I used to sport and play 

With classmates seen no more, 
Springless and summerless to-day 
I wend alone life's autumn way 

To class-room Number Four. 

Where are they now, where are they now, — 

The friends who gathered there, 
And oft, with faith-illumined brow, 

Spoke of the future fair ? 
Where are the ardent hands that met 

Each evening at the door ? 
My life is green in memory yet, 
But never can my heart forget 

Old class-room Number Four. 

One sleeps beside the mobile seas, — 

His life had just begun, — 
And one beneath yon crimsoned trees 

Who died for Aracan. 
Kind Nature spreads the grass and fern 

The graves of others o'er ; 
The flamed-tipped leaves above them burn ; 
Their feet, alas ! will ne'er return 

To class-room Number Four. 

We toil and sow, but only gain 

The harvests of our prayers ; 
Our hopes in God alone remain 

Of all our anxious cares. 
To these, how little worth appears 

The all of learning's store, 
The classic lore, the thoughts of seers, 
I gathered in those early years 

I spent in Number Four. 



140 



OLD CLASS-ROOM NUMBER FOUR, 



The light is low, the sunset's glow 

Scarce hides the evening star, 
And winds through dreamy shades below, 

The silver Charles afar. 
Farewell ! shadow-mantled halls ! 

I ne'er may see you more ; 
Afar the voice of duty calls, 
As sombre night around me falls 

And class-room Number Four. 




NEW YEAR'S HYMN. 141 



NEW YEAR'S HYMN. 

(Written for Ruggles Street Church Anniversary, 1875.) 

For us, Lord, the year has brought 

Its bloom and harvest glory ; 
To us, through changing seasons, taught 

Thy truth, in Gospel story. 
Again our voices join in song, 

And bring their glad thanksgiving 
To Thee, to whom all years belong, 

To Thee, the ever-living. 

We meet with gladness on each lip, 

And kindly warmth of greeting, 
And in Thy boundless fellowship, 

Each heart to heart is beating. 
And for this day, and for this hour, 

We bring our glad thanksgiving 
To Thee, the ever gracious Lord, 

To Thee, the ever-living. 

We oft have sung with fresh delight 
Of thy new love upspringing, 

And some who joined our songs, to-night 
Are with the angels singing. 



142 NEW YEAR'S HYMN. 

But friends below and friends above 
Unite in glad thanksgiving 

To Thee, whom all thy children love, 
To Thee, the ever-living. 

Thy power in prayer we oft have felt, 

Thy sympathy most tender, 
And seemed to see, as we have knelt, 

Thy face in veiled splendor. 
For all these joys from Paradise, 

We bring our glad thanksgiving 
To Thee, who every good supplies, 

To Thee, the ever-living. 

. So may we join from year to year, 

Thy goodness ever singing, 
And after faithful service, hear 

The bells of glory ringing. 
Then, safe with Thee, again we'll raise 

Our voices in thanksgiving 
To Thee, in more exalted praise, 

To Thee, the ever-living. 



THE FLAG OF FORTY STARS. 143 



THE FLAG OF FORTY STARS. 

I walked in Arlington's lone fields near even : 

The wings of Night drew nigh ; 
While half the sun, like a far gate of heaven, 

Burned in the autumn sky. 

No more the lawns with fountain spray were christened 

But, 'neath the glimmering domes, 
Far in the purpling light the city glistened, 

A wilderness of homes. 

On crisping leaves was Nature's pen inditing 

The lesson of the fall, 
Seeming almost like that mysterious writing 

In Babel's banquet-hall. 

Around me rose white monuments in clusters, 

An open space before, 
Where graves reflect few monumental lustres, — 

A sad field of Manoah. 



It is the field of single graves, where slumber 
Young heroes 'neath the mounds ; 

And yet "Unknown" on tablets without number 
I read in those broad grounds. 



144 



THE FLAG OF FORTY STARS. 



There heroes sleep. Balm-breathing Junes returning 
Touch with wild flowers their bed ; 

And fair years pass, with golden harvest burning, 
Above the unknown dead. 




T<> think of them the gay world seldom pauses 

They had in it no part ; 
In life they gained no feverish applauses, 

Tn death, no shaft of art. 



I said to one I met, ;i soldier lonely, 

With sorrow in my eyes, 
"Brave men lie here;" and then 1 added, -Only 

How til-eat the sacrifice \ " 



THE FLAG OF FORTY STARS. 



145 



Toward the Potomac and the Capitol turning, 

Then said the man of scars, 
" I see, amid the twilight hazes burning, 

The Flag of Forty Stars. 

" The blue Potomac hears no battle-marches ; 

The fruiting fields increase ; 
And Plenty piles her stores to heaven's arches, 

And all the land is Peace." 

Night's curtain fell, the distant city shading: 

I left the field of Mars ; 
But long I saw above the Capitol fading 

The Flag of Forty Stars. 




10 



146 A NEW YEAR'S PRAYER. 



A NEW YEAR'S PRAYER. 

By all that 1 to others owe, 

By all I hope to prove, 
By all that other lives bestow 

On mine, of hope and love, 
By all my influence, day by day, . 

Whose end I cannot see, 
Lord, take, forever take away, 

My wrong desires from me ! 

By what 1 owe a mother's love, 

By what a father's care, 
By all to honor I would prove, 

And all for virtue bear, 
From lapse from good, from passion's sway, 

Oh, keep my spirit free, 
And take, forever take away. 

My wrong desires from me ! 

By all the magnitude of loss 

To those who fail and fall, 
By all I owe my Saviour's cross 

To which tor help i call ; 
By all 1 owe to souls astray 

Thai would direction see, 
Oh, lake, forever take away, 

My wrong desires from me ! 



>T0 THE BIGHT, TO THE RIGHT EVER TRUE." 147 



"TO THE RIGHT, TO THE RIGHT EVER TRUE." 

Ode written for the One Hundred and Forty-ninth Anniversary of the Ancient and 

Honorable Artillery. 

[ PATRIOTIC. ] 



Wake the song to the nation's defenders, 

The years of prosperity glow ; 
The natal clay welcome that renders 

The love that to valor we owe ; 
Wake the song where our fathers, undaunted, 

Proclaimed, when the nation was new, 
That their ensign for Liberty planted 

Should be to the Right ever true! 

Chorus. 

To the Right, to the Right ever true, 
To the Right, to the Right ever true, 

The ensign for Liberty planted 
Should be to the Right ever true. 

II. 

When the Red Cross of England contended 
With the Lilies of France, in their might 

Our fathers arose and defended 

For freedom the cause of the Right; 



148 " TO THE RIGHT, TO THE RIGHT EVER TRUES 

Then dared they the sceptre to sever ; 

For the Right, the far forest ways trod, 
And templed the fair hills, wherever 

Their faces were lifted to God. 

Chorus. 

To the Right, to the Right ever true, 
To the Right, to the Right ever true, 

The ensign for Liberty planted 
Has been to the Right ever true. 

in. 

The banners of tyranny faded, 

The Reel Cross and Lilies of Gold, 
And the folds no oppression had shaded — 

The stars of the empire — unrolled ! 
And they pledged it, these heroes victorious, 

As on Liberty's breeze it unfurled, 
To the birthright of man, ever glorious, 

And to freemen, the Kings of the world ! 

Chorus. 

To the Right, to the Right ever true, 
To the Right, to the Right ever true, 

The ensign for Liberty planted 
Has been to the Right ever true. 

IV. 

I I'M- red war when Slavery vaunted. 

The heroes of Right rose as one. 
The banner the father had planted 

Was guarded for Right by the sou. 
Young martyrs, — Lei valor deplore them, — 

Their names on the white marbles glow, 
The roses of June redden o'er them, 

The war bugles peacefully blow. 



TO THE RIGHT, TO THE RIGHT EVER TRUE: 



149 



Chorus. 

To the Right, to the Right ever true, 
To the Right, to the Right ever true, 

The Flag they defended, forever 
To the cause of the Right shall be true. 

v. 

Again at this altar that binds us, 

The faith of the past we'll renew, — 
An hundred years fading behind us, 

A thousand years rising to view. 
And as long as the fair constellations 

Shall lighten the heavens with gold, 
Shall the banner of Right be the nation's, 

And ever for Right be unrolled ! 

Chorus, 

To the Right, to the Right ever true, 
To the Right, to the Right ever true, 

The flag of our nation forever 
To the cause of the Right shall be true. 







OX THE ATLANTIC. 

My God ! on seas of storm and calm, 

I pass the ocean o'er, 
And sing to thee my thankful psalm. 

Each evening nearer shore. 

Thine is the storm, thine is the calm, 

Wherever I may he ; 
And nothing shall my soul alarm 

Upon the silent sea. 

A voyager o'er a restless sea, 

I pass to ports divine ; 
I know bright shores, all waiting me, 

Beyond the horizon line. 

1 know, for. in the calm of prayer, 
I've seen the fair skies glow, 

And felt, through life's reluctant air. 
Immortal breezes blow. 

And often, as my spirit sings. 

As calms succeed the gales. 
Pair birds, with sunshine on their wings, 

Drift past the restful sails. 



ON THE ATLANTIC. 



151 



When day declines, and thoughts of death 

Come o'er me like a dream, 
I dip my golden cup of faith 

In life's celestial stream. 

I have an everlasting home, 

Or be it near or far ; 
My Lord is mine, whate'er may come, — 

He is my Polar Star. 



Steamship "Circassian." 




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152 "UNKNOWNS 



UNKNOWN." 



Or where the ring-dove's notes, sweet summer's augur, 
Float from the hillsides o'er the Tennessee, 

Oi- by the James, or by the Chickamauga, 
Or where the Gulf winds dip the sails alee, 

Or where the Schuylkill cleaves the vernal shadows, 
Or stretches far the commerce-gathering arms 

Of the broad Hudson, through the freshened meadows 
Of village rims and harvest-blooming farms, 

Where'er we meet the friends once fondly cherished, 
And hands all warm with old affection take, 

Breathe ye with love the names of those who perished 
And sleep in graves Unknown, for Freedom's sake. 

The wooded slope of Chattanooga shadows 
The Level fields where they repose, alone; 

In serried rows in Arlington's green meadows, 
Their headstones speak the one sad word, "Unknown" 

Balm-breathing Junes, to old home-farms returning, 
Bear from green fields no pleasant airs to them, 

Nor rose and lily's odorous censers burning 
In morning suns, from dew-bejewelled stem. 



unknown: 



153 



The west winds blow by Chickamauga River, 
The south winds play the Rapidan beside ; 

But they are dead, and we shall see them never, 
Till heaven's armies follow Him who died. 

Peace ! Let us mingle love's sweet tears with pity's 
For those who bought the heritage we own, 

Who gave their all, and in death's silent cities 
Have but the nameless epitaph, Unknown. 







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